


Mark of Slytherin

by Titels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Curses, Dubious Consent, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-02-18 03:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 82,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13091964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titels/pseuds/Titels
Summary: When it comes to Tom Riddle, Harry and Hermione have long since decided to thwart all and any plans he has for world domination. And they have been successful, at least up until now. But when Tom gets a hold of the latest artefact he was looking for it might become a tad harder than usual.AU without magic but with a bit of supernatural instead.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've played way too much Uncharted lately and was inspired to write a story in a similar setting, where Harry and Hermione are adventurers and Tom just want to get his hands on ancient, mystical artefacts to use their powers. It rather quickly derails from the ruin-climbing loveliness that is Uncharted, but oh well. 
> 
> I'm not sure how fast or well this will be updated. It is mostly a project I write for fun, but any feedback is appreciated. Also, I don't have a beta so if you find any mistakes let me know and I'll be glad to fix them.

“Ugh..” Harry moaned where he sat, head a blurry mess. He blinked, trying to get a sense of where he was and what was happening, every cell in his body screaming that he was in trouble.

“Oh, look who has joined us.”

That voice was familiar, too familiar. Harry shook his head and the world slowly cleared up around him. He looked up into a smug face.

“Riddle.”

Said person raised a hand, flattening an imaginary flaw in his immaculate black hair. “Good, I see my men didn’t manage to do any permanent damage. It would be terrible, for a man with your limited intelligence.”

“Oh, ha-ha.” Harry said, wondering what he had done wrong to be faced with the bastard Tom Riddle, of all people, first thing after waking up and with a head that throbbed with each heartbeat. “Still like to kick people while they are down, I see.”

“I wouldn’t need to, if they hadn’t been foolish enough to fall in the first place.”

That was right, Harry remembered why he was in that situation now. The expedition that filthy warlord was taking to find El Dorado, of all places. Harry had gone to beat him to the punch and make sure that the smug ass couldn’t get his hands on… whatever it was he was after. God knew what he hoped to find. Only they had expected him and Harry remembered being surrounded on both sides and then darkness. Judging by his throbbing head, someone must have bashed it good.

Harry glared at Riddle and the bastard had the audacity to look amused. That was usually Harry’s prerogative, after he stopped another of Riddle’s attempts to find ancient treasure that would help him take over the world.

“So what now? Did you bring me here so you could have the pleasure of killing me yourself?” He gave his head a nonchalant throw, regretting it when pain stabbed at him. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Riddle stood and looked down at him. “Oh, killing you would be such a waste. I have other plans for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry said, lifting an eyebrow. “Well, get started then. We’re not getting any younger here.”

Riddle laughed a silky laugh that did more to Harry’s nether regions than he wanted to admit.

“So impatient. But you’ll have to wait until I get back. There’s this annoying pest – other than you – that’s following in my footsteps, and it wouldn’t do to welcome him without a party.”

“You’re gonna have me wait here? Like this?!” Harry was incredulous. “It could take you days to find the place, much less..!” He shut his mouth, not willing to reveal that he didn’t have a clue as to _why_ Riddle was there. “What are you even keeping me for, anyway?”

Riddle was close now, Harry hadn’t noticed when he crossed the short distance in the tent and stood right in front of him.

“What am I going to do?” There was a gleam to his eyes that Harry did most certainly _not_ like. “I’m going to continue what you started in the cave of Aphrodite.”

“What I started? You mean making a fool out of you, once again?”

There was a twitch of an eyebrow which indicated that Harry had successfully annoyed Riddle. He took it as a win, because in that situation there wasn’t much to celebrate. The expression was quickly replaced by that of a cat about to pounce. Harry didn’t like that.

“Don’t you remember?” Riddle leaned closer, his mouth close enough to touch Harry’s ear. “You rushed over to me and asked to that I do some less than savoury things to you. Right there and then.” Harry was frozen. Riddle pulled back, enjoying Harry’s shell-shocked expression. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. You won’t be able to walk for a week once I’m done with you.”

Harry’s breath stuttered at the thought. “No...” He said, shaking his head, clearing it. “I’ve never said anything like that to you! I wouldn’t touch you even with a five foot stick! As a matter of fact, you are much too close right now!”

“Why, are you getting aroused?” Strong fingers gripped Harry’s chin, a long finger tracing his jawbone. “There was a time when you claimed to feel nothing for me but hate, but we both know that isn’t true.”

Harry tried to pull his head out of the grip. “It is true! I feel nothing but hate for you!”

“Back in that cave,” Riddle said, voice low and velvety, “I held the staff of Aphrodite. You know what it does, right?” Harry knew, but the warlord told him anyway. “It makes those who are chosen by it act on their inner desires,” Riddle said, “and I decided to test it on you. Do you know what you did?”

Harry remembered that much, but after there was a blur until he had blinked and found himself standing much too close to Riddle, before Hermione had been there and pulled him away.  He didn’t know what had happened and was dearly hoping that Riddle wasn’t about to tell him.

“You rushed over to me, in front of all my men, and you grabbed my lapels, clinging to me for dear life. And then you said, _whined_ even, ‘Tom, please take my virginity.’”

Harry felt sick.  There was a part of him, a dirty, hidden part, that found something  incredibly attractive in Tom Riddle.  But no matter what attraction he might feel he wouldn’t act on it, because Riddle was a moral-less bastard who sold weapons to both sides in a war and used this as a step to further his goals. And Harry had long since decided that he would do his part to mess up the man’s plans.  Getting in bed with him had never been a part of that.

R iddle was enjoying his reaction too much, one hand on Harry’s t h igh – when had that got there? – and the other still gripping his chin, making sure Harry couldn’t turn away. 

“No..” Harry said, “You’re making this up!”

“I’m not. I have no need for lies.” His fingers were caressing Harry’s leg now, moving upwards. “And while you might deny it, your body is being honest.”

Hot lips engulfed Harry’s, pulling them into a bruising kiss that overwhelmed the younger. As that clever tongue made it’s was into his mouth Harry couldn’t help the moan that started deep in his throat. He was embarrassed to find that Riddle’s pushy manners were arousing him. Being tied up didn’t exactly help either.

When Riddle finally pulled back, he did so with a look of utmost satisfaction. The hand still resting on Harry’s thigh twitched, getting the briefest of touches to Harry’s hardening member.

“Well… I should go, before I change my mind. But don’t you worry, I’ll be sure to take your virginity once I’m back.”

S tartled and panicked by the whole situation Harry blurted out “I’m not  one  anymore.”

The rage that clouded Riddle’s face was terrifying. Harry had only seen it once, and then he had been well out of range.

“Say that again.”

“I’m..” Harry swallowed. “I’m not a virgin anymore...”

H arry’s leg hurt from where Riddle was squeezing it. “ Is that so? Then won’t you kindly tell me who the lucky man was?”

Harry shook his head. He wasn’t going to tell Riddle anything, because of two reasons. First, judging by that expression the warlord was going to kill whomever he mentioned, and second, it wasn’t actually true.  Harry had had his dalliances with some girls, but he had never been with a man. Up until that moment he hadn’t even shared so much as a kiss with one. 

“Harry…” Riddle’s eyes were fixated on his face. “Tell me.”

H arry shook his head. “What’s it to you, anyway!?”

“Do you think I will be denied that which was promised to me? You,” he practically hissed the word, “promised it to me.”

“You can’t take the word of someone under a spell seriously!” Harry snapped back.

“Spell or not, it was mine to take!” His grip tightened even further. “So you will tell me!”

“It doesn’t belong to you! And it’s mine to give to whomever I please, when I’m ready!”

Riddle opened his mouth to answer and froze, the rage slowly sliding into glee. “You lied... You haven’t done it yet.”

S hit. Harry realised his mistake too late.

“Well, then,” Riddle let go of Harry and rose up to his full height. “I think it’s time I stopped letting you distract me. We’ll have plenty of time for that after I get back.”

He moved towards the exit.

“Wait!” Harry shouted. “Come on, you can’t leave me here! Take me with you. I can be helpful...” he didn’t add the fact that he wouldn’t be.

“That’s sweet, Harry, but I really must insist you wait here. God knows you would probably find a way to slither out of your bonds otherwise. But don’t worry,” he winked, “I’ll leave you in the company of one of my most loyal guards. You can keep each other company.”

And then he was gone and Harry was alone with his inner turmoil.  Had he known things would turn out like this he would have found another way. Riddle had revealed things Harry was not comfortable with knowing.  He could barely handle knowing that he was attracted to Riddle, much less that it was apparently  very much  mutual.

Luckily – or not – Harry didn’t need to stay in his turmoil for very long because his guard entered the tent.

“Geh.” Harry said.

“I assure you, Potter, the feeling is mutual.” The slow voice of Severus Snape drawled. He was Riddle’s right hand man and a real jerk, if you asked for Harry’s opinion. Where Riddle had always seemed to hold a strange sort of amusement toward Harry, even after he got in the warlord’s way time after time, Snape only held contempt for Harry.

Like always, he was eyeing him like one would look at a bug, and deciding whether or not to crush it beneath his boot. And right at that moment it wouldn’t be hard, considering Harry was completely helpless. But he was also pretty sure that Snape wouldn’t dare to do anything that went against his master’s orders. _Pretty_ being he keyword. The slimy git might just decide that he would better serve Riddle by getting rid of Harry. The man had never been one to simply follow orders.

“Get out and get another guard! Anyone else would do!”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Much as I’d love to this role has been ordered for me, specifically. I’ve been told not to let you out of my sight.”

“Please,” Harry scoffed, “Like I haven’t seen you going against orders a million times!”

“There are orders and then there are _orders_ , Potter. It would do you much good to learn to differentiate.” The man sat down on the chair Riddle had vacated, running a hand over his greasy hair, pushing it back even further.

Harry felt like arguing that just saying the word twice didn’t give it any specific meaning, but that would mean he had to talk to the git even more, and it just wasn’t worth it. Instead he huffed and looked the other way, turning his head to the right.

“Good, you can be quiet. Stay that way.”

Harry bit his teeth together, refusing to be goaded.

An hour later and his neck was hurting, pain shooting up his spine and nudging the base of his brain. He really ought to turn his head, but doing so would mean he ended up having Snape in his line of sight. Harry stubbornly kept staring right.

It really hurt, though. Harry winced as pain burst, making his head feel like it was under attack. Maybe this could be his protection, if he told Riddle he had a headache. Harry let out a bitter chuckle, there was no way that was going to work on Riddle. If anything it might even get him going.

“What are you laughing at, boy?” Snape snapped, sounding frightfully annoyed. Maybe if Harry could push him enough he’d be kind enough to end his misery.

“The pathetic exc..!”

The loud bang of a firearm interrupted his insult and Snape swore, vaulting over toward Harry. Within a second Harry felt himself get thrown to the floor, chair and all.

“Goddamnit Snape, that hurts!” He yelled, pain lacing up his left arm and neck. The latter might have been his own fault, since the sudden movement had thrown his head around, and the sudden movement made it feel like something stretched.

“Quiet, Potter!” the man hissed, crouching above him. “As much as I loathe it, my lord would kill me if I let you be hurt… So,” he looked around, then started moving to the exit in a crouch, “be quiet and don’t go anywhere.”

“Oh, ha-ha.” Harry said. Snape gave him a lifted eyebrow before lifting the flap of the tent and sneaking out.

“Shit.” Harry said. The sound of battle outside was clear now, gunfire ringing through his ears. There was even a shot whizzing through the canvas, thankfully far above his head. But, Harry noted, approximately where his head would have been, had he still been upright.

Now then, while lying on the floor was fun, it wasn’t exactly a good plan. The chair had unfortunately not broken from his fall and Harry found himself just as stuck to it as he had been previously. He had a memory of seeing a knife on the desk. All it would take him would be a couple of skips and worm-like undulations. He could do that.

Raising his hips and pushing off with his feet, Harry managed to move himself forward. Perhaps no more than a centimetre, but that too was progress. Again.

As he did his slow shuffle Harry suddenly became aware that things had quieted down outside. There was the occasional shout of men, but no more shooting. That might have been a good thing, had it not been for the fact that anyone who dared to attack Riddle’s fully manned camp wouldn’t be anyone good. So at this point, Harry was pretty certain he was screwed, whether it be Riddle’s men or the attacker who had won. Screwed then, in two completely different meanings.

He shuffled on, trying to move faster. He had got so far as to reach the desk when the flap to the tent was opened, sending in a spray of wetness. Huh, was it raining outside?

Harry looked up as well as he could, noting immediately that it wasn’t Snape. The legs were much too shapely for that and the hips too wide.

“Well, well, what do we have here? An ickle baby being tied up and left all alone. And in the head-honcho’s tent, no less!” A shrill voice, tinged with madness. Oh no, Harry knew who that was.

A second pair of legs joined hers. “Well, darling, what do we have here?” Cloth rustled and Harry was suddenly face to upside-down face with Fenrir Greyback.

The bearded face was just as disgusting as Harry remembered, the hair untrimmed and wild, greasy and the remains of someone’s blood. Greyback grinned and it revealed his yellow teeth. The breath was atrocious.

“What happened to you, little man?”

Harry would have felt insulted, but in comparison to the bounty hunter, Greyback, most people were small. Harry had – gratefully – never had the pleasure of meeting him before, but his reputation far preceded him. Greyback was said to be ruthless when pursuing a bounty and just plain violent otherwise. He didn’t care if the person was old or a child, woman or man, if they got in his way he would take them down with all he had. Being in Riddle’s captivity seemed good in comparison.

“Uh,” Harry said and tried to go for a smile. He felt it came out rather crooked. “I seem to have been caught by Riddle. Any chance you could help me out?”

Greyback tilted his head in consideration.

“I know what he is!” A voice cackled behind him. Bellatrix Lestrange, Greyback’s second in command and even more dangerous than him, was jumping from foot to foot in excitement. Harry wondered why no one had ever put her into a mental institute, but figured no one had found it worth the trouble. “He must be Riddle’s boy!”

Greyback’s eyes narrowed. “Riddle’s boy, you say...”

“No, no, I am definitively not that!” Harry shook his head. “Look at me, I’m clearly not here of my own free will, right?”

“Think about it! He’s right here in Riddle’s tent, aaaaall wrapped up like a gift. And we saw Snapey coming out from this tent.” She cackled. “Now whyyyy would dear Riddle leave his most favourite henchy behind?”

The beard twitched as Bellatrix spoke. Greyback looked straight at Harry and now there was a gleam to his eyes that Harry did not like.

He shook his head. “Are you crazy! I told you, I’m not here of my own free will!”

“Well...” The bountyhunter lifted a long knife and scratched his beard with the tip of it. “I hear you, little man. But here’s the thing. My dear Bella is right. Here you are, all tied up like a turkey for thanksgiving, waiting in Riddle’s own tent with Snape as your personal guard. Even if you aren’t here willingly, there’s certainly something with you that means something to Riddle. And that,” he grinned wildly, “means it’ll be to our advantage.”

Grabbing Harry’s arm, ignoring the brunette’s shouts of no, you’re wrong, Greyback pulled him upright on the chair and proceeded to undo the ties. It was a great time to run, but the strong hand still gripping his arm made that impossible. And even if Harry had the strength to pull himself loose Bellatrix looked like she was itching for a fight and Harry really didn’t want to get into that. He had heard she liked to play dirty tricks.

“There, there, good boy...” Greyback said, pulling Harry up from the chair and grabbing his arms, tying them firmly behind his back. “Here, Bella, catch.”

Something flew through the air and the woman caught it deftly. A rope, and as Harry followed it back to its origin he realised that it led back to him. Bellatrix pulled it and Harry yelped as the force made him stumble and yanked him around. As she laughed Harry frowned over the being leashed like a dog.

“I think that’s all we have to get from here. Time to visit our friend Riddle, don’t you think?” Greyback said and ducked out of the tent.

Bellatrix giggled and followed him, rope pulling taunt and forcing Harry to walk out backwards. It was not an easy task and he really hoped she would see sense and at the least let him walk in front of her.

As he was led out ass-first, Harry didn’t quite see the carnage that surrounded them. When he was finally allowed to turn around and pushed in front of Bellatrix the sight made him gag. Riddle had no shortage of men and it looked like most of them were currently occupying the ground, lying where they had fallen. A couple closest to them had had their bellies split open and their guts were spilling out. Harry was glad he couldn’t see any details of those further off, because he was sure they were in a similar state.

Greyback laughed as Harry gagged. “Can’t believe Riddle would choose someone with such a weak stomach. I’ve seen places where he’s passed through that makes this look like a field of daisies.”

Harry was well aware of that, he had once seen Riddle punish a man for getting to the treasure before him. The sight had not been pretty and Harry hadn’t been able to sit by and do nothing. The end result… well, let’s just say getting blasted by the staff of Aphrodite hadn’t been in the plans. Hermione kept cursing him for being so reckless.

Speaking of Hermione, Harry hoped that she had the sense to keep hidden. His comrade didn’t need to get caught up in all of this. Harry thanked the stars she had been waiting back in camp while he scouted.

Greyback walked onwards, flanked by his men. Bellatrix gave Harry a push in the back.

“Time to go meet your lover boy~~” she sang and Harry didn’t even bother argue. He had a feeling it would just delight her.

Up ahead, Greyback kicked over a prone body. Harry recognised that greasy hair. The bounty hunter let out a loud guaff.

“Some second-in command, huh? Causing so much trouble and now you’re just as dead as the rest of them!” He kicked the corpse again and Harry blinked. Had it just twitched?

But no, the company moved on and it wasn’t moving, looking as dead as everyone else. Harry was just grateful Greyback had settled for a couple of kicks instead of ripping his guts open in front of them all. He didn’t think he would have been able to handle that.

The path through the excavation was rather easy to follow. Although it was old, Riddle had had his men clear the path and build walkways where the ground fell out. Even after the excavation site had ended doors stood open and no soldiers were waiting for them.

“So nice of him to show the way!” Greyback had laughed. “It’s almost like he’s welcoming us in!”  
Harry wouldn’t be so happy about that, if it was true. Riddle set mean traps.

So in the end they were able to just rush into the final chamber where Riddle was standing with his back to them, weighing something in his hand. Seeing him like that was frightfully familiar and Harry had not liked how it ended last time, not that he could remember much.

At the sound of their entrance the warlord and all his soldiers turned, weapons at the ready.

“Riddle, you sad excuse for a warlord!” Greyback called out, earning nothing but a raised eyebrow in return. “How about you tell your men to put their guns down and come over here, nice and easy.”

“Greyback, what a pleasant surprise.” Harry didn’t think he had ever heard Riddle speak in such monotone before. “Now why don’t you tell me why I should do that?”

Greyback pulled Harry forward and put a gun to his head. How lovely.

Riddle’s eyes met Harry’s and there was a brief tinge of irritation in his eyes. But when he addressed Greyback his voice was neutral.

“What, are you playing with hostages now? That’s a little beneath you, isn’t it?”

Someone swore behind them and Harry turned his head enough to see that there were other’s behind them now, caging them between two parts of Riddle’s men. Oh, it was a trap. What an absolute surprise, Harry thought, sarcasm dripping.

“Tell your men to back off, or your little pet here won’t be so pretty no more!” Greyback roared, clearly taken aback by the situation. For a ruthless bounty hunter he really didn’t seem to consider his actions much. That was really no way to impress Tom Riddle.

The warlord just shrugged. “Go ahead, if you would like to die slowly.”

“Well,” Harry said, acting braver than he felt. “You guys are clearly at a stalemate. So how about you just handle this like gentlemen and duel it out? No need to involve anyone else.”

Riddles laugh was silky. “Oh Harry… this was never a stalemate.”

A loud bang echoed through the chamber and the hand holding the gun to Harry’s head exploded in blood and bone. Harry ducked and ran, throwing himself behind the first cover he could find as bullets rattled around him.

They were insane, certified insane the both of them. Working hard to saw his ropes against a sharp piece of the rubble, Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw Greyback fighting one-handed, firing his gun with ferocity. Riddle was… he was standing, practically out in the open and not even looking where he was firing, but Harry could bet his bullets hit their intended targets. Instead, the warlord was looking over at the point where Harry was crouching and then gave a small nod.

Shit. What did that mean? Harry sawed harder at his bonds, finally feeling them break when a shadow swept over him and he looked up at the figure of Severus Snape looking as casual as a person could be when standing literally in the middle of a gunfight.

“What?!” Harry croaked. “Weren’t you dead?!”

Snape grabbed his arm. “Come on then, Potter.”

Uh, Harry thought, I don’t think so.

He launched himself forward in a move that startled the older man, tearing through the remaining rope as he did so. Taking advantage of his element of surprise, Harry aimed another kick and then stepped over him and ran.

He wasn’t sure where he was going – the obvious exit being the entrance, but that was completely blocked off by Greyback’s men. Downstairs were Riddle and his men. Harry begged the gods that he hadn’t noticed what happened. However the chamber was large and there were strange holes in the wall. If only he could get high enough to reach them…

While broken and battered there was decorations around the room, tall statues of ancient men and demons alike. Now they made perfect stepping-stones as Harry jumped and flailed, clinging to the side and climbing. It took him time, more than he was comfortable with, and just as he reached the cave Harry noticed how quiet it had become in there. Hands gripping the cave floor and ready to pull himself up, Harry looked back.

Just like the camp had been, the chamber was now a site of massacre. It wasn’t as bad, but that was because Riddle clearly was the winner and he didn’t have any particular need to bathe in people’s guts. Not that Harry knew of. The man himself was standing where Greyback had last been, prodding at an unmoving body with his foot. As if sensing Harry’s eyes on him he slowly turned his head. Harry could have sworn that Riddle’s eyes glowed red in the dim light of the chamber. The warlord smiled.

“Come on down, my dear Harry. It’s safe now.”

Safe wasn’t the term Harry would use and there was something about those eyes that were different, and terrifying. He tightened his grip on the rock and pulled himself up, begging that the cave could lead him out. If it was a dead end Harry was lost.

Down below Riddle as walking in his direction without any sense of hurry. The smile on his face was one of fond amusement.

Harry stumbled into the cave, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He couldn’t see well, but as he went forward there were no obstacles in his way. “Oh thank god...” he mumbled.

Soon enough he was lost in the darkness but he could still hear an echo of movement from the chamber. There was no doubt that they were trying to follow him. Shit. He should have pushed harder and made that wobbly statue fall over. But there was no time to ponder, he was outnumbered and outgunned, didn’t even have his handy torch with him. There was nothing to do but continue.

Feeling his way along the walls Harry moved forward for an indefinite amount of time. There was a strange loud bang and after a while he couldn’t hear any sounds of pursuing and he slowed down, letting himself properly feel the way forward.

The darkness stretched forwards and backwards, making him feel like he had made a mistake. Who knew where that cave led? Just because it didn’t stop it didn’t mean that it would help him get to an exit. But the walls beneath his hands were smooth, as if they had been made by man. Surely that meant the path had a purpose and an exit.

More time passed and Harry walked and walked until he suddenly noticed a small spot of light ahead of him. The exit. He hurried his steps up, stumbling and almost tripping over an unknown obstacle in his hurry to get there. It hadn’t felt like a rock.

Harry paused and crouched, letting his hands feel the texture. Brittle and kept together by something that felt like cloth. Harry had an uneasy suspicion of what it was. But why…

The light up front was getting closer and it moved. Crap. A torch?

Fear of being caught by Riddle’s men had Harry flatten himself to the wall, trying to hide behind a pillar. He didn’t think it would work, they ought to have heard the rattle as he fell over the pile of bones, but if they were stupid enough to pass him by he could take them by surprise.

Waiting for the person to get closer seemed to take an eternity. There was something familiar with those steps, but Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on what. One of Riddle’s men that had been loyal for a long time, for sure.

They were close now and Harry pushed himself flat against the wall, muscles tensing. The light swept past him in an arc, not quite able to illuminate where he was standing. It flashed over the skeleton, wearing the remains of fancy cloth and plenty of jewellery, and stopped there. There was a gasp – once again, familiar – and the steps moved faster in a slight run.

Harry was halfway out when the person crouched down and he caught sight of a head of bushy hair. Harry stopped himself in the last minute, flinging himself to the side and landing on his shoulder. Shit that hurt.

“Hermione!” He said and the person turned to him, revealing the features of his friend. “What are you doing here?!”

He gasped as she flung herself around his neck, squeezing his aching shoulder and the air out of him.

“Harry! I can’t believe I found you!”  
“I can’t believe you’re here!” Harry said in return. “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous!”

She shook her head. “This wouldn’t be the first time I fought against Riddle, remember? I wasn’t about to leave you at his mercy.”

“But Greyback!” Harry argued. “We both know he’s completely crazy. He could just as easily have killed you if you had showed up!”

“Which is why I followed behind.” Hermione said, matter of factly. “And when they reached the chamber I found a way around, looking out at the action from one of the caves. Thank god you managed to get away in the scuffle. I don’t think me and my stun-darts would have been any good against the whole army.”

Harry hugged her again. “You have no idea how brilliant you are! Now, please tell me we can get out the same way you came?”

Hermione frowned. “I had to jump down to a lower cave to get here, you see all caves are connected to one directly opposite it. I managed to get lucky and find one where the wall had cracked enough for me to squeeze through. I don’t know if we will be able to get up that way.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s better than going back and running into the hands of Riddle. Let’s go check it out and we’ll see where to go when we get there.”

Harry rose to go, but Hermione stopped him. “Hold on, Harry. Have a look at this corpse!”

He crouched down next to her, looking it over. It looked like it had felt, like a pile of bones dressed in the remains of textile. “What am I seeing?”

“This.” She nudged the head to fall further to the side and revealed a strange squiggle pained on the back of the skull. No, not painted, etched. “I saw more of these along the way. They all had that same inscription.”

“So what does it mean?” Harry asked, frowning.

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know. All the research we did before coming here, all the myths… I don’t recognise this symbol from any of them.”

Unease raced through Harry. When they had first found out that Riddle was planning this both Hermione and Harry had been surprised. Pettigrew had only been able to tell them that their destination was an old excavation out in the desert. Riddle had been unusually secretive about it, but rumours among the men was that they were searching for El Dorado. But this wasn’t the right place for it at all.

“Do you think...” Harry said and Hermione nodded.

“It’s surely connected to what he’s after.”

Harry shook his head. “We’re not going to find out here. Let’s see if we can make it out of this alive.” He flashed a smile that Hermione returned. So far, that sentence had been like a lucky charm for them.

They walked back the way Hermione had come, a trip that was much easier now that they had light. There was a couple of other skeletons along the way, but Hermione had already checked them and they were much the same. Harry picked up and a locket from one, running his fingers over the intricate snake design on the front.

“Harry!” Hermione said in outrage.

“What? It’s not like it needs it anymore and we need to get some money to get back home, remember?”

The trip to the Saudi desert had been a sudden move for Riddle and Harry and Hermione had been forced to use up most of their savings to get there. They hadn’t been able to plan for a way home, but Dumbledore had assured them he would get them back. They’d pay him back, somehow, but Harry hoped that he wouldn’t have to use up the last of the money his parents had left him to do so.

Hermione shook her head but said nothing, which Harry took to mean that she acknowledged his wisdom.

As light streaked into their cave from the chamber Hermione turned the flash-light off and they sneaked forwards. There hadn’t been much sound from outside and Harry hoped that this meant Riddle had decided to quit his hunt and to move out. Peaking his head around the wall Harry took in the sight.

Bodies still littered the ground and no one seemed inclined to pick them up, much less care that they were jostled around as they walked past, carrying boxes and objects. There was a section of soldiers who looked like they were building a sort of scaffolding to get up to the cave Harry had climbed up to – one of the pillars he had used was on the ground now, most likely having fallen when someone else tried to climb. Good riddance. He hoped they were properly busy with trying to get in there.

The rest of them were carrying things out, Harry caught sight of gold shimmering. And Hermione thought him a thief for taking a single necklace.

Riddle was… thankfully he was nowhere in sight. In fact, neither was Snape – and how the man had survived was a question for another time – or any other of his lieutenants. Had they left the grunt work to the… grunts and gone off to do whatever evil warlords did in their spare time.

No one was even looking in their direction so Harry chanced to have a look upwards. It wasn’t too far to the next cave, he could probably give Hermione a boost up and then get up if she gave him a hand.

“We can do it,” Harry whispered. “No one’s paying attention, so...” He crouched with one knee on the ground for stability, forming a platform with his hand. “Come on, I’ll give you a boost!”

Hemione nodded and got in position, reaching the cave and pulling herself up easily. Good girl, Harry thought. When a hand reached out over the edge a moment later Harry jumped up and grabbed it, getting a grasp on the ledge with his other.

A large hand gripped his tight. Hermione’s pull was surprisingly strong, Harry thought as he heaved himself over the edge and came face to face with Riddle.

Had it not been for the grip on his hand and the hand that grabbed his other arm and pulled him up, Harry might have fallen right there and then. Riddle pulled him up and pushed him against the wall. Behind him, Hermione’s mouth was covered by Snape’s filthy hand. He didn’t have time to dwell on that as Riddle grabbed his chin, forcing him to face him.

“While I do find your attempts of escape to be adorable, please remember that when you are in my presence your focus should only be on me.”

Harry lashed out, aiming a hit at Riddle with his free hand. The warlord caught it with his face, but he didn’t even blink.

“So forceful… always eager to get away. I think it’s time we did something about that, don’t you?”

Harry wanted to say no, but he was too occupied by the glow of Riddle’s eyes and being suddenly spun and shoved face first into the wall. Riddle pressed close, keeping him pinned to the wall. A finger traced Harry’s neck and he was suddenly aware that the other was hard. Was he planning to…?! In front of Snape and Hermione, no less!

The warlord chucked as he felt Harry tense. “Don’t worry,” he whispered in Harry’s ear, “those things will come later. For now...”

The finger that was still tracing his neck suddenly hurt, feeling like they were biting deep into his skin. Harry bit back a scream but couldn’t stop the pained moan from rushing out.

“The first King did this on the back of the skull, but I find that rather odd. Why mark your property where no one can see it?”

Harry whimpered, feeling tears running out the corner of his eyes. The agony just kept going as Riddle slowly, slowly traced his fingers. It was like he was cutting with a knife, only it went deeper than skin into Harry’s bones and into his very soul.

When Riddle finally was done he backed off slightly, letting Harry sag tiredly against the wall.

“There’s just something about your face in agony, Harry...” A hand was running through his hair, massaging the scalp and then pulling, forcing his head back. “I can’t wait to see it in the throes of passion..!”

There was a sudden commotion outside, down in the chamber. From where he was pressed Harry could see a woman shooting wildly. Her black hair left no doubt of who it was. Bellatrix. Riddle stiffened in annoyance behind him and Harry suddenly saw his chance. He buckled and pushed back, catching Riddle of guard. The man stumbled by the edge and went down, hanging by his knuckles.

Harry stared at them, urging himself to move forward and step on them, but he was pushed away by Snape as the man rushed forward to help his master. While Snape grabbed Riddle’s wrist Harry contemplated the idea of shoving him, getting rid of them both in one fell swoop. But before he had the chance to make up his mind Hermione grabbed his sleeve and pulled him deeper into the cave instead.

“Come on! We have to get away.”

Harry’s entire body ached from whatever Riddle had done to him, but with Hermione’s insistent pulling he made it forwards, turning a sharp left and creeping through a slim crevice as she urged him on. Riddle and Snape weren’t far behind and a hand reached in, grabbing at his sleeve.

“Harry!” Riddle’s eyes were wild and desperate. “Don’t even dream about getting away from me!”

The brunette pulled and the warlord’s grip on his sleeve slipped. Harry shuffled through the opening in a hurry, but neither Snape nor Riddle followed. He realised with a start that they were probably too big, too tall to get through. Trust Hermione to find the one path that only they were able to fit through. As a matter of fact, they were damned lucky Harry had been able to fit.

Looking back Harry could see Tom staring at him. Eyes following his shape with frightful accuracy.

The other side of the crack was a small path, just wide enough for one person to walk across. Far below Harry could see Riddle’s men carrying their looted treasure. Any second now the man himself might rush out there, hunting for them.

Harry followed Hermione’s back as she led the way back. “How did he know, Hermione?” He asked in a quiet voice. “How the hell did he know?”

His friend paused and looked back at him, face pale. “He must have seen me, Harry!” She shook her head. “For all that he’s a right bastard he’s not stupid. I led you straight to him.”

“Ah, shit. No, Hermione it’s not your fault. If you hadn’t come to help me I would just have been stuck there! And then he’d have found me anyway.” And done things that were even worse. Harry didn’t say that, it didn’t feel right.

“Still..”

“No. Come on, we gotta get out of here before they come looking.” Harry looked around. “How are we getting down? How did you even get up here in the first place?”  
Hermione couldn’t help but flash him a satisfied smile and pointed to a rope hanging down the side of the mountain. It led upward, to a hole in the ceiling.

“Sometimes you need to approach things from a different angle.”

Man, his friend was awesome.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some plot.
> 
> _Minor chapter edits 25/8/18._

“We need to find Charlie,” Hermione said as they rushed through the streets of Al Ghaydah,Yemen.

They had managed to get out of the excavation and away from Riddle surprisingly easily, even though the climb out had been a horror for Harry who felt like his entire body had been used as a punching bag. When they were finally back in England he would allow himself the longest and most luxurious of baths.

The friendly nomad tribe that had helped them find their way in the first place had been waiting close by and were more than happy to help them back again. Especially when Harry fished an ancient ring out of his pocket and gave it to them as a gift. Hermione had given him the stink-eye for that, but it was worth it.

“Charlie?” Harry asked, feeling woozy and tired.

“Yes, Ron’s brother, remember? The guy who helped us gain entrance?”

“Ah.” They hadn’t actually met Ron’s brother, but he had been presented as a tall man with hair just as red as Ron’s, so they were sure to recognise him. Harry hoped he would realise who they were as well. From what Harry understood it wasn’t often his little brother asked for a favour. And for a couple of complete strangers, no less.

It had been pretty amazing that they had found someone to help them get to Yemen within a week. But Ron had been one of Dumbledore’s contacts – the old man practically knew everyone. He had only been happy to set up the meeting after finding out that Harry and Hermione were going after Riddle, again. There was no one who held a greater distrust toward Riddle than Dumbledore.

But this time they had failed. Harry felt a pang of regret that they had let Riddle get away with it and that he would walk away with all that treasure and whatever else it was he had found. Especially whatever else it was that he had found. Even without the treasure Riddle had never had an issue with lack of money. The back of Harry’s neck ached.

Despite having only visited the town once before, Hermione led the way with confidence. Or possibly it only looked that way, Harry wasn’t sure. All he knew was they had been walking through the town for what seemed an age and he wasn’t sure if they were any closer to Charlie’s than they had been.

“Uh, Hermione?” He asked when the woman slowed down to take a sip of water. “Do.. where are we actually going?”

She swallowed her mouthful of water and picked up the pace again. “I told you. We’re going to Charlie’s.”

“Yeah, and that’s great and all but… we’ve been walking for ages now.”

Her sudden stop had Harry walking straight into her back. “Are you saying you think I’m lost?! Because let me tell you, Harry James Potter…!”

Harry held his hands up in defence. “No, no! Of course not! It’s just, I’m tired and…”

She smiled apologetically. “You’re right, sorry. I’m tired too. A lot has happened in the last couple of days, hasn’t it?” She started walking again, but slower this time. “And you are right, while I’m not completely lost this city is rather hard to navigate.”

“Maybe we could ask someone?” Harry said. “To be honest I’m not sure how much more walking I can take. My feet feel like they are nothing but a big blister.”

“You’re right… But I can’t speak a word of Arabic and I’m pretty sure you can’t either.”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “But there is surely someone here who knows English, ‘Mione. Let’s just… let’s ask that storekeeper.”

Harry walked over with as confident steps as he could manage. “As-salam alaykom.” His pronunciation was sure to be atrocious, but Harry was pretty sure that was an accepted greeting.

The man in the shop acknowledged him with a “Wa Alykom As-slam” in return. It seemed he had done okay.

“Uh, sorry, do you speak English?” The man looked at him, clearly not understanding. “English?” Harry repeated, “England?”

The man shook his head and then pointed to a stall on the other side of the street. He yelled something and the man in that stall answered. “English.” The man nodded and pointed again.

“English.”

“Oh, he knows?” Harry said, “Thank you very much! Uh… Shokran.”

He went over to the other side, Hermione at his heels. When he greeted the owner the man smiled widely at him.

“English, yes?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, it seems my friend and I got a bit lost and we were wondering if you could point us in the right direction?”

“Ah, that is, of course!” The man answered cheerfully, if with a strong accent. “Where you go?”

Harry looked at Hermione.

“Oh!” She said, holding out a piece of paper for the man to read. “We’re looking for this address!”

He frowned. “You not want to go there from here. Is across not good place.”

“Really?” Harry asked, just as Hermione said “but we need to meet our friend.”

The shopkeeper shook his head. “No, better to have friend come meet you, yes? Better, go tomorrow. That place, not good.”

“What’s so bad with it?” Harry asked, feeling curious. Bad neighbourhoods were certainly nothing strange, but the way the man had paled seemed unnatural.

“Bad, bad place.” He kept shaking his head. “Do not go there!”

“But we must!” Hermione was getting annoyed now, Harry could tell. “Just point us in the right direction, please!”

“You not go.” The man said again, but after reading Hermione’s look continued. “Is down there.” He pointed to a small alley just to their right. “All forward.”

“Thank you!” Hermione didn’t waste any time but marched straight over, leaving Harry to hurry after her.

Behind them the man shook his head yet again and said a small prayer.

“’Mione,” Harry said as he followed his friend down the narrow alley. It was too slim to let anything but the midday sun reach the path so they walked in shadow. The walls on either side of them were made out of pale stone, worn down by the weather. The further along they went, the more beaten it became. An air of neglect and long misuse seemed to transfuse the very walls. Harry shivered. “Are you sure this was a good idea? It _really_ doesn’t feel like a place we want to be in...”

“Oh, nonsense, Harry!” Hermione huffed, “Are you really going to listen to such superstitious words? I’m sure this is just a slightly worse area and myths have spread from that. It’s an older neighbourhood, that’s all.”

“If you’re sure...”

“Of course I’m sure! Look, we’ve been walking along this path for quite some time now and nothing has happened yet, right?”

“I guess...”

“Exactly! Come on, now, you’re the one who wanted to find Charlie as quickly as possible.”

She wasn’t wrong, there had been nothing but uneasiness following them along. They had even passed a couple of turns in other directions and nothing had jumped them from there either. Still, for all that it didn’t feel _right_. Harry couldn’t believe that Ron’s brother would live in a place like that. While Ron himself was a rather hot-headed man, Dumbledore had spoken highly of his brother and of his skill. Surely that meant something?

Ahead of them the alley abruptly ended and opened up onto a large square. It was deserted, not even a single person could be spotted. Harry squirmed with unease.

“… Hermione,” he said, “even you must admit this is weird.”

She sighed. “What is weird, exactly?”

“This.” He made a sweeping gesture. “It’s too empty. Where are all the people?”

“At home, most likely.” The woman said, voice tired. “It’s getting pretty late, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Harry hadn’t, which was rather strange because darkness was running rather than sneaking up on them. That only increased his panic. Being there during the night felt like a tremendously bad idea.

“Okay, sure, let’s just find Charlie’s, okay… Where do we go from here?”

His friend frowned. “The man said to follow the alley all the way through. So that must mean we’re here.”

Harry really hoped Charlie didn’t live there. That would mean they would have to spend the night in that place. He looked around. All doors were properly shut, the same with the shutters on the windows. Nothing would be allowed to get inside.

The sun was sinking rapidly now. Harry bounced on the balls of his feet, his eyes going back and forth trying to keep everything in sight. “Hermione, which house?”

She frowned, looking at her map and paper. “I’m not sure… I don’t think he lived by a square at all…”  
There was a pathway straight across from where they had exited. If you took the man’s words for it, then maybe…

“Hey, let’s keep moving! There, see?” Harry pointed to the alley. “He probably meant for us to continue there as well, right?” He was walking before he had even finished talking, grabbing Hermione’s hand and pulling her along when she didn’t move. “Come on, before it gets too late!”

“Ouch,” Hermione said, pulling her hand out out of his grip, “you’re hurting me, Harry! But you’re right, we don’t want to inconvenience Charlie.” She sped up, leading the way along the new path.

For every step they took away from that place the more Harry felt able to relax. But he was still tense enough to give a small jump as an eerie howl sounded from behind them. They had got pretty far away by then, but as he looked back Harry could have sworn he saw two eyes glowing at him from a corner of the square. He shuddered and rushed along, glad when nothing came running after them.

Harry spent the rest of their walk casting looks backwards, prepared for anything. When they finally stepped out of the alley and into a road filled with people the sudden life felt surprising. For a moment it was as if they had been in the land of the dead, where no one existed but them. And _that_ , whatever that had been.

“This is it!” Hermione exclaimed as they ventured out into the street. “I recognise that building from the picutre Ron showed me.”

“...Okay...” Harry said, still feeling rather disoriented from what he was sure was a near-death experience. Not that Hermione seemed affected by it. “So where does he live?”

“Uh..” she hesitated again. How she had ever expected to find the way there without asking was beyond him.

Luckily, at that moment Harry caught sight of a flash of red hair. It was unmistakable, especially in a place where red hair was most definitively not common.

“Hermione! Over there!” He pointed.

“Oh! Charlie!” The bushy haired girl yelled, “Charlie!”

Taller than most people on the street, Charlie turned with a look of surprise on his face. He walked back to them, an expression of polite curiosity across his features.

“Hello...” he said, “Do I know you?”

“Oh, how rude of us! I’m Hermione and this is Harry.” She gestured at him. “You helped us out before, remember?”

Charlie’s eyes widened. “So you’re the friends! Nice to finally meet you!” He shook their hands excitedly. “Hermione and Harry, right?”

They nodded. “Nice to meet you!” Harry blurted out, the first thing he had said so far. Charlie seemed like a real nice guy, all smiles and warmth.

“Well, let’s not stand around here, it’s getting late. Come on, I live just over there.” He pointed to a building which looked exactly like the others and then set off, leaving the duo to follow along.

“You’ll have to forgive the mess,” Charlie said as he unlocked the door and let them in.

Harry was about to politely dismiss it, but stopped short as he looked around. The place truly looked as if a bomb had gone off, with clothes and trash all over the room and dirty dishes in the sink. It gave the place a heavy air.

“No worries...” Harry said, “It’s… quaint...” He winced, realising that he had just used his aunt’s expression.

Charlie didn’t seem to notice. He stepped over to the couch and swept away piles of clothes and trash all together. Next to Harry, Hermione gave off a choked sound. Ron had mentioned that his and Charlie’s mother had been nagging the older brother to get a wife and now Harry sympathised, even though the idea to push this mess on someone else was cruel.

At Charlie’s gesture the adventurer’s sat down on a couch that at least seemed to be clean. It was possible that it was all surface dirt. Whatever that was. Another of Harry’s aunt Petunia’s sayings. Two recollections in a very short time, Harry must be getting ill.

“So,” Charlie said when they were all settled in and he had set out a cup of dark coffee before them. “What’s the reason for this unexpected visit?”

Harry took a sip of his coffee and winced. He had never gotten the taste for coffee and this one felt strong enough to remove rust.

Hermione smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid we’re here to ask for another favour.” She took a sip of the coffee and didn’t even flinch. What was her stomach made out of? “Some things came up and we urgently need to leave.”

“Oh.” Charlie said, looking disappointed. “You’re leaving our beautiful town already? You can’t even have seen even part of it!”

Harry winced. He was completely right, but the part that they had seen hadn’t much impressed Harry. Fearing for his life wasn’t exactly holiday material.

“It’s a shame,” he agreed. “But it can’t be helped. We really need to leave as soon as possible, perhaps even as soon as tonight.”

Charlie shook his head. “Tonight won’t be possible, I don’t know anyone who would fly this late. Maybe if you took the boat...”

Hermione didn’t look too enthusiastic about that idea. Harry remembered the last time they had been on a boat and giggled. The woman had spent the entire trip bent over the railing, so he could imagine that an approximately week long journey wouldn’t exactly float her boat. Heh. Float her boat. Sometimes he cracked himself up.

“Plane is better, please. Tomorrow then?” Hermione asked.

“It’s short notice, but I’ll see what I can do.” Charlie downed his cup. “Let me just go for a quick visit.” He stood up. “In the meanwhile, please make yourselves comfortable here. There’s more coffee if you want it.”

“Thank you!” Harry said, as Hermione asked, “But what about payment? We don’t have cash but...”

Charlie looked surprised. “Oh, your return has already been paid for, didn’t you know? I’ll make sure you can get home, just gotta make the arrangements.”

He left them sitting on the couch.

“Man,” Harry said, “I can’t believe how accommodating he is.”

“Almost too accommodating, right?” Hermione said, eyes narrowed. She went up and looked out the window at his retreating form. “Are we sure we can trust him?”

Harry shrugged. “Well, he is Ron’s brother and that gotta count for something, right? Besides,” he flipped over and stretched out across the couch, “where else would we go and what would we do?”

When Hermione didn’t answer Harry assumed she had conceded his point and he closed his eyes, laying his glasses on the table. “Wake me up if something happens.”

Harry was asleep within seconds, the experiences of the last few days catching up. His dreams were strange and blurred with the sensation of being watched. No matter where he looked he couldn’t see anything, but the feeling remained. It unnerved him. When Hermione shook him awake the next morning Harry lashed out, almost hitting her across the face.

“Harry!” She yelped and he blinked.

“What… ‘Mione?”

“If you’re gonna kill me I’m not waking you up next time!”

“Ah, no I’m sorry… I just had this oddest dream… I was… and then...” Harry faded out, unable to put his dream into words.

“Whatever.” Hermione said. “It’s time to get up now. I’ve talked to Charlie and the plane should leave in a couple of hours.”

Harry blinked again, putting his glasses back on and letting the world regain focus. He was alone in the living room that was a lot cleaner than it had been before. “Did you sleep at all?”

Hermione didn’t answer so Harry followed her out to the next room. She was fiddling with their packs, dark sacks underneath her eyes.

“Hermione, you can get some rest. I’m sorry for taking up the entire couch.”

“Oh, no, Harry...” She shook her head and smiled tiredly at him. “I can’t, too wound up. But it’s alright, I’ll go to sleep on the plane.”

Harry opened his mouth, closed it again.

“Hey, good morning to you!” Charlie cheerfully said from behind as he emerged from another room. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning...” Harry greeted back. “Very well, thank you.” Never say aunt Petunia hadn’t taught him his manners.

“Say Harry...” Charlie said, “I didn’t see it last night, but that’s an interesting tattoo you got.”

“Tattoo?”

“Yeah, the one on your neck. Did you have it done here, it’s quite resemblant of...” Charlie kept talking but Harry wasn’t listening any longer. His hand was touching his neck and the area felt hot. A tattoo… what had that bastard done?

“Sorry,” Harry interrupted Charlie mid-sentence, “do you have a mirror?”  
“Uh… sure… In there.”

He pointed to a room and Harry rushed in, turning his back to the mirror and craning his neck to see. The angle made it terribly hard but he could make out something glimmering in emerald. What the heck?!

“So as I was saying,” Charlie said outside, “it’s quite resemblant of the mark of an ancient king who was said to have magical powers and he ruled with an iron fist. His reign lasted for over two hundred years until he was quite tragically murdered.”

Hermione was listening with wide eyes and Harry walked back out. “Wait, what king?”

“An ancient magical King, Harry.” Hermione said slowly. “Who’s followers bore that same mark you do.”

A shiver made its way down Harry’s spine. “Oh.” He said, fighting the dread that was rising up his spine. “Charlie, do you know anything more about this?”

Charlie frowned and shook his head. “All I know comes from this book of tales, legends really. This King supposedly had a whole city out in the desert, but it was ruined after his death. The only thing people seem to be sure of is his mark. Here, let me show you.” He brought a book from his bedroom. “It’s in Arabic, but the mark drawn is very similar to yours, Harry.”

He took the offered book with trembling hands. The symbol in question was a strange squiggle, just like they had seen on the skeleton in the cave. In the proper light and drawn out, Harry could see that it wasn’t just a squiggle but the image of a snake. Harry put his hand inside of his shirt and pulled out the locket he had taken. The snake emblem gleamed golden in the light and was too alike for it to be a coincidence.

“It’s the same.” Hermione said from behind him, where she had been looking at his neck. “Exactly the same.”

Harry dropped the book.

Charlie was looking between the two of them with an uneasiness that rivalled panic. “Hey… Why do you have a locket with the inscription from a legendary king..? I know I said I didn’t want to know but...”

“Charlie,” Hermione said, “I’m sorry you had to see this. We haven’t done anything bad, really, we are actually here to try and stop someone from doing something bad. And that’s why it’s really important that you tell us everything you know about this legend.”

“Rid...” Charlie mumbled something beneath his breath. “I.. uh… Slytherin. That’s the translation of the king’s name. He’s a legend so old it’s almost forgotten, but there’s something in this text about him being cursed. I... I don’t know anything else.”

“Slytherin...” Hermione repeated. “That’s good, it’ll give me a proper start. And this curse, what’s it about?”

Charlie was completely pale. “I don’t know, truly I don’t. The book only says something vague about silence like death…” He grabbed the book from where Harry had dropped it and closed it with a bang, holding it close to his chest. “I… I think you should leave now. Don’t want to miss your flight!” He grabbed a bag and practically threw it at Harry. “Come on, hide that thing and let’s go!”

When Harry didn’t move he grabbed his hand and the locket. “Come on, put it down! You can’t go around flaunting that thing.”

Harry did as he asked, putting it away in the bag and feeling numb. He didn’t want to touch it anyway, didn’t even know why he had brought it in the first place. So stupid!

“Okay, good,” Charlie seemed to relax a tiny bit. “Now, follow me!”

He barged out of the apartment and Harry felt Hermione nudge him along. “It’s alright, Harry. We’ll solve whatever this is. We always do, remember?”

When they got downstairs Charlie was banging on a door and a ruffled man poked his head out. They spoke for a short moment in Arabic and then the man disappeared again, closing the door.

“Give him a second. He’ll bring the car around and take you to the airport.”

The wait was tense, Charlie shifting continuously and Harry staring into the ground, trying to process things. Hermione looked between the two of them and seemed highly uncomfortable. When the car finally got there Charlie saw them off with barely a word.

“Thank you so much!” Hermione said, “Really, you’ve been a lifesaver!”

Charlie shook his head. “It’s what I’m paid for…”

Hermione jumped in but Charlie grabbed Harry a split second before he could follow. “Be careful!” He hissed, “always be on your guard!” Then he gave Harry a small push to enter the car.

Charlie went inside before they had even started driving, his red hair making his unnatural paleness stand out.

“What was that?” Hermione mumbled, mostly to herself. Harry was still out of it, frowning and staring out through the window.

“Hey!” She said to the driver, “Do you know what the plan is? Can we just go straight on to the plane?” The man looked at her through the rear view mirror and didn’t answer. “Come on!”

The driver frowned and stuttered something that might have been a ‘Sorry no English’. Hermione leaned back in the seat in frustration. There was something seriously odd going on here and Charlie was the one acting the most strangely. Why had he gone from friendly to rushing to get them out of there in a second? It had been fishy when he was accommodating and now it was just plain odd.

“Harry,” she said, “didn’t something strike you as real odd?”

He turned away from the window and faced her properly, but his eyes were distant. “Everything’s weird, ‘mione. The world has been turned upside down. I’ve been freaking _marked!_ ” As he talked, life refilled his eyes. “Marked. Like cattle! What, how… who does that?!”

“Let me see it again.”

Harry’s frown deepened but he obliged, turning his back to Hermione so she could have a better look. Harry squirmed as she touched it gently, the feeling surprisingly unpleasant. There had been people touching his neck before and it had never felt that bad. Heck – even Tom had touched his neck and it hadn’t felt bad, not until the pain started. But now… Harry had to fight every instinct in his body not to throw himself away from her touch.

“Whatever he did, it’s definitively permanent,” Hermione said, rubbing her fingers against it. “Or, I mean, we will obviously run some more tests when we are back but… It’s almost like it has been burnt into your skin, but with colours.”

If Harry hadn’t been feeling off about it before, he definitively was now. “Seriously?!” He reached a hand back to touch it as well. The skin felt warm and like she said there was a definite raise in places, almost like a burn. But that was completely impossible because it wouldn’t have healed in a matter of days. In fact, Harry was pretty sure it had healed in a matter of minutes.

He shrugged Hermione’s prodding hands away and turned back, leaning against the car seat. Even though he had been the one allowed to sleep through the night he felt exhausted.

“Seriously...” he said again, “what the hell has that bastard found now?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out, Harry.” Hermione said, matter of factly.

“Are you sure this is the right decision?”

“What?”

“Going back. We… normally we would have managed to thwart his plans at this point and we go home, safe and happy with the knowledge that he has been successfully thwarted. Crisis averted, for the moment. But now… whatever that king Slythers,”

“Slytherin.” Hermione injected.

“ _Slytherin_ , whatever he had that Riddle found, he used it. And we didn’t destroy it. And we’re letting him go.”

Hermione shook her head. “We’re _not_ letting him go, Harry. But it is the only thing we can do, we don’t know what it is we need to destroy or how to do it. We don’t have an army at our disposal and trying to sneak up on them unprepared got you captured. At this point we better retreat and figure out how we can handle this.”

Harry frowned. “But we didn’t defeat him, Hermione. We always defeat him!”

She glanced at Harry, concerned. “It couldn’t be helped, we weren’t prepared this time. His move was so sudden we didn’t have the chance to get ready. But I doubt that, even with this ancient artefact, Riddle couldn’t take over the world in a week. We’ll read up and then we’ll act.”

“On the other hand I bet Dumbledore could get us a couple of men to help out, if we asked nicely.”

“Harry!” She looked outraged. “What, you want to start a war with Riddle? That’s never going to work and you know it. And I thought we both agreed that we were going to be better than him and not kill anyone.”

“Well...” Harry slumped. “It was just a suggestion. Why don’t you take a nap until we get to the airport?” He felt like she might be getting a tad cranky from staying up all night. “I’ve already slept so I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

“Harry James Potter! What are you insinuating?!”

Harry wondered if he imagined that her hair stood out even more when she was mad.

“Nothing! Nothing. Just wanted to let you get some rest, is all. After all, it was my fault you couldn’t sleep at Charlie’s.”

Hermione took a deep breath. She still looked mad afterwards, but calmer. “Fine.” She turned her back on him, leaning on her right side.

Harry didn’t think she was actually sleeping, but that was fine. He had a lot to consider and this way she would be quiet. Maybe even get some rest. And a well rested Hermione would always be more helpful than one who flew of her handle at the slightest of provocation. He stared out into space as they went and eventually his friend’s shoulders relaxed with sleep. As they did, something within him relaxed as well. He had been worried about her, she always pushed herself too hard when they were out on these projects and never let herself get enough rest.

Leaning back against the seat Harry stared up into the roof until the uncomfortable feeling of being watched prickled against his skin. The car was moving steadily, despite the driver looking back at him every so often, watching with attentive eyes. Harry had heard him say that he didn’t speak English before but now he wasn’t sure. It would be a good way to listen in on secrets. A good thing then, that they didn’t say anything too revealing.

At least Harry thought they hadn’t said anything too revealing. Mentioning Slytherin and Dumbledore and Riddle… if he thought about it, they might just as well have told him the entire tale. No key players or events left out of the loop. He dearly hoped that the man was just looking out of curiously and nothing else. This was Charlie’s man, after all. And Charlie had been hired by Dumbledore, so he should be good… right?

Trepidation raced up his spine. The time had been short, and who was to say their dear Dumbledore had the time to properly check Ron’s brother. Maybe he too, had been relying on the bonds of blood to trust his character. The blind leading the blind.

But no. Harry shook away the thought. Dumbledore knew what he was doing. And the probability that this man was a spy would be minimal. No one knew they were going there and no one would benefit from it.

“Haah...” Harry let out a deep sigh. Things would get better when they were back in London and could relax again. He would be in his apartment and not worry about people spying on his every move. Anonymity was sweet.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the airport and Harry shook a groggy Hermione awake. When they got out of the car their driver did as well, leading them to a different man. They had a quick conversation in Arabic and then the new person beamed at them.

“Come come.” He said, gesturing for them to follow him. Harry didn’t bother with trying to talk to him because it was quite clear that he didn’t speak much English, saying nothing but “come come” as he led them along the airport. Hermione didn’t try either, still too groggy to attempt to get any information out.

It soon became clear that wherever the man was leading them it was not to a regular flight. They didn’t walk through any security as he took them through a side door and straight out to the runway. There was a small plane waiting there and their guide beamed as he stopped before the steps and gesturing them inside.

“Come come!” He said when they didn’t move.

“Uh,” Harry said, despite his internal decision not to try and make conversation, “Are you sure this is for us?”

While the plane was rather of an older version and rundown, going in a _private_ plane wasn’t normally included in their budget. Usually their contacts just got them to the airport, provided them with whatever documentation and tickets were needed and that was that. Chartering a jet didn’t seem like it would be in the budget.

The man just smiled at them, gesturing to the stair. “Come come! Mr Harry, yes?”

Well, he couldn’t deny that was his name. Maybe Charlie had some proper strings to pull. He began to lead Hermione up the stairs, still hesitant. Their guide seemed absolutely jubilant over successfully getting his dim-witted guidees to realise that they were meant to board the plane.

The inside of the plane was sparse, with six plain chairs in beige cloth and not much else. Harry stowed their backs beneath their seats as well as he could, with some help from the pilot. The latter didn’t say a word as it happened, only made sure that Harry and Hermione were both safely belted in. Then he closed the door and disappeared into the cockpit.

“Weirder and weirder, right ‘mione?” Harry said, but the woman was already asleep again. That too, was strange, it was unusual for her to fall asleep again after being woken up. She must have been even more tired than he thought.

As the plane started down the runway Harry let himself relax. Sure, it was real strange that there was no one else on this plane and the fact that they had been more or less smuggled out of the country was questionable, but it was also fine. They hadn’t entered completely legally so why not leave in the same manner as they had come?

Unlike Hermione, who was happily snoozing away on the other side of the plane, Harry had never been able to sleep while in the air. Travelling so freely and fast made his heart race with excitement. It was even more now that there was no other people around.

Harry stared out the window until the plane had taken off properly and then he unbuckled and got up, marvelling at the feel of the plane beneath his feet. He could practically feel how fast they were going and it was so exciting!

There was no door to the cockpit and Harry inevitably found himself drawn there to watch the world blast by unhindered.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?!” Harry gushed when he noticed the pilot looking at him. The man still didn’t answer, but he indicated that the adventurer could take the seat next to him. Harry’s heart skipped in excitement as he sat down. He alternated between looking at the monitors and the buttons and the world outside. Whenever the pilot moved his hand his eyes were there, rapidly taking in his actions.

Harry had never told anyone, but it had been his secret dream to become a pilot. But the training was long and he hadn’t had much money growing up so getting into the education had been impossible. Getting his aunt and uncle to agree with spending that amount of money on him would have been impossible. Even if the money technically had been his. And then life had happened and he had got caught up in fighting against Riddle and it just didn’t happen. Maybe, he thought, it wouldn’t be impossible now. A small plane like this didn’t seem to be even near as complex and if they saved up the money maybe he could even buy his own and…

Harry clenched his fist to get himself to calm down. It was an exciting prospect, but not right now. They had a bastard of a warlord to stop first.

Still… There was nothing wrong with enjoying himself while he had the chance.

The pleasure of being in a private plane and riding up front abated as soon as they set foot on firm land and the pilot handed him an envelope.

_Harry Potter_ was written on the cover with a fine, ordered cursive.  Curious, Harry thought and ripped it open as he and Hermione made their way off the lone airfield they had been dropped on. Where w ere they , anyway?

The letter inside was written with the same beautiful handwriting and made Harry’s blood run cold.

 

_My Dear Harry,_

_I hope you enjoyed this small treat._

 

_Until we meet again,_

_Tom_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been roughly betaed by myself, but I expect there are a lot of issues still. Feedback is appreciated.  
> Also, it might be noticable I've never been to Yemen and speak no Arabic, so let me know if there are any serious issues in what's described.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry had been furious, even hours later as he and Hermione finally had made their way back to London from that airfield in the middle of nowhere.

“Shit!” He swore as they stumbled into her flat, depositing their packs on the floor. “Fucking arse could’ve at least set us up with a god-damned ride home!”

Hermione looked very worn and tired as she agreed, for what must have been the hundredth time. “I know, Harry.”  
He paced, anger filling him with energy he didn’t truly have. “I can’t believe that bastard hijacked our way home!” He paused. “Or orchestrated the whole thing from the start. I can’t believe Dumbledore didn’t check the sources properly! Damned old man!”

“Hush Harry, I know...” Hermione had sunk into an armchair, leaning back heavily and with her eyes half lidded. “But you need to realise this was a fluke. Too little time...” she yawned. “Dumbledore didn’t have the chance to check properly. And he is Ron’s brother...”

Harry made a disdainful sound. “Ron’s brother! What do we even know about Ron, come to think of it?!”

Hermione frowned. “Harry! Don’t go dragging Ron into this! He’s been very helpful before, and before you would have been the first to take his word for it. I know you’re mad, and I’m mad, and we’re all mad. But..!”  
“I’m going to talk to Dumbledore!” Harry announced, turning toward the door.

“Harry!” Hermione almost shrieked, before lowering her voice. It was only evening, but still too late to be screaming like that. “Harry. You will not go see Dumbledore right now, is that clear? You’re too upset and it’s late.” Harry wanted to argue, but she cut him off before he even got started. “Is that clear?”

He opened his mouth again to complain and then thought better of it. One did not want to mess with a cranky Hermione. “Yes...” The answer was sulky, but it appeased Hermione.

“Good. Now go home and sleep and I’ll talk to Dumbledore tomorrow and find out what happened.” She waved her hand toward the door. “Go on. You can leave your pack for tomorrow, but I need some sleep now and you need it to.”

“Fine.”

Harry walked out the door, slamming it shut behind him. He imagined he could hear Hermione’s sigh as she dragged herself out of the chair to lock it.

When Harry had gone down the stairs and stepped out into the chilly autumn night, the cold air did nothing to appease his temper. He had stopped himself from shouting at Hermione out of pure force of will and the knowledge that she wouldn’t budge. Hermione didn’t think it was a good idea for Harry to talk to Dumbledore at this hour and she would stick to her belief. Harry didn’t agree.

Disregarding his earlier promise he set out for the tube, getting of at Marleybone and walking the remaining distance to Dumbledore’s flat. He was a posh bastard for sure, but still an okay bloke. In most instances Harry would simply have forgotten this, but the letter was still in his pocket and the sound of it crinkling as he walked poured gasoline on the flames.

Riddle. Tom fucking Riddle. Not only had they been unable to stop him, he had put a weird mark on Harry and added insult to injury by sending them home! Like he had any right to cater for their comings and goings. Time after time Harry and Hermione had outsmarted him, had stopped him from reaching his goal and that was the way things were meant to be. And now, just because the bastard had come out on top this once, he believed he had won the war?

Oh no, that wasn’t going to cut it. Harry would find out how Dumbledore had failed to safeguard their travels and make sure Riddle didn’t stand a chance of winning ever again. When they struck next it would be enough to stop him from even making the attempt.

Harry reached the doorway of Dumbledore’s apartment building and pulled the door. It was locked and wouldn’t budge. A newly installed call system sat on the wall to the left, but Harry didn’t know how to operate it. He did remember the old man speaking fondly of it the last time, but couldn’t remember how it was supposed to work.

“Shit...” Now what? There was no way something so irrelevant as a locked door would stop Harry from getting in. He could have picked the lock, but of course all items were left at Hermione’s place and in his rage he hadn’t thought to bring it.

On the other hand, this was an old building. Made out of fine brick and mortar with nice little decorations out front. If one were so inclined, they’d be a breeze to climb. And Dumbledore did only live on the second floor.

Having some sense left, Harry realised that trying to scale a building by the main road might not be the best of ideas. Instead he made his way around the corner to where the number of people dwindled to none.

“Perfect.” Harry’s first grin since landing spread across his face and he knew that the astonishment on Dumbledore’s face as he knocked on the balcony would be priceless.

And with that he climbed, jumping to reach the first stone jutting out. As he had expected the climb was easy and he didn’t think anyone had seen him. At least there were no shouts of alarm. Harry reached Dumbledore’s balcony without problems and swung himself up. Safe and good to go.

It was dark inside and very likely that Dumbledore was already asleep. Some of Harry’s anger had actually cooled by now but there he was on the balcony. It was a tad too late to back down. Harry put his hand in his pocket and felt the letter with Riddle’s mocking words. That was enough to fuel the flames and he burst forward, knocking hard on the glass door.

There was no sound from inside and Harry knocked harder. A little more and he believed he might have broke the glass, but a light turning on in the window next to him stopped the action. About time the old man woke up.

The light clicked on in the living-room. Dumbledore wore the most fantastical nightgown Harry had ever seen, a royal purple covered with gleaming stars and moons. It was a proper gown too, not a pyjamas.

“Harry?”

He broke out of his fascination only when the old man had already opened the door and was looking out at him in concern. To Harry’s disappointment he only looked mildly surprised.

“Harry, my boy?” Dumbledore opened the door wider. “Welcome back. What brings you to my door this evening?”

Dumbledore’s tone was perfectly polite, as if this was a social call and not an enraged man having climbed up to his balcony and was banging on the door.

“Why the hell did our trip back get arranged by Tom bloody Riddle?! I thought we could trust you to set us up with reliable people!”

“Oh dear,” Dumbledore said, “I was wondering how you got back.”

“Wondering..!? That’s not the problem here! Shit, if we can’t trust the agents you set us up with we can’t use them anymore!”

“Of course you can trust my agents,” Dumbledore said, calm in the face of Harry’s fury. “Please, won’t you come inside and have a cup of tea?”

“I don’t want your tea!”

“Not to worry my boy, then I’ll just have one for myself. I must insist that you step inside, though. It wouldn’t do to wake the neighbours up.” The old man moved away and into his kitchen, leaving Harry no choice but to follow.

Somehow he found himself seated in an armchair, a steaming cup of tea next to him. He didn’t touch it, despite a strong yearning to finally have the chance to lean back with his favourite drink.

“Harry,” Dumbledore was saying, “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“Shouldn’t you know about it already?” Harry sneered, “Isn’t it your job to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong and know everything?”

“My dear boy, I’m not omniscient. And your departure this time was rather abrupt, so we had to make do with the resources we had. I’m sorry to hear it seems they were inadequate.”

“Inadequate..?!” Harry found himself at a loss of words. His and Hermione’s lives had been in the hands of the bastard they had been continuously thwarting for the last couple of years and Dumbledore narrowed it down to _inadequate._ He grabbed the tea and took a large sip. It burned going down, making him hiss.

“I would have hoped that the familial bonds between our young Ronald and Charlie was enough to guarantee his loyalty, but it seems Riddle must have gotten to him somehow.” Harry shook his head in disbelief. How was he so calm? “But I am glad to see you here, unharmed. Though rather surprised, I admit. The tales you told from previous encounters makes me feel that Riddle would have taken stronger actions than sending you home...” He looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry found himself hesitant, the feeling burning away his anger. Up to this point they had always told Dumbledore about their trips and what happened. Perhaps not every single up and down – Harry was always careful to smooth over quite how touchy Riddle was with him, and the details from the disastrous Aphrodite encounter were best left unmentioned – but all the points that mattered. Now, however… Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Dumbledore about the mark. He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone else to know.

Taking a sip from his tea, Harry scratched his neck. The feel of his own skin felt strange now, almost unpleasant.

“We… Well, we didn’t manage to stop him...” His heart felt heavy in his chest. “Whatever it was he was looking for, we didn’t get there first. He knew we were coming.”

“Oh dear,” for the first time that night concern entered Dumbledore’s expression. “That’s most unusual and most unsettling. Do you have any idea of what it was he was after?”

“Well, no, just… just that it seems to have something to do with an ancient myth of Slytherin..? I…” Harry stood up abruptly. “I got to go. Sorry to bother you so late. Hermione will come over in the morning, I’m sure. She’ll be able to fill you in.”

Getting up, Harry made his way to the door. Dumbledore didn’t make a move to stop him, but followed him.

“Take care, Harry.” He said. “And if there is something you want to discuss you can come over anytime.”

“Oh sure. Thanks for the tea.”

The cold night air brought some clarity back into his mind. It felt stupid now, having rushed over to Dumbledore like that. It wasn’t the old man’s fault that Riddle was bastard of the worst kind. He supported Harry and Hermione, made sure that they could do their thing and how did Harry reward him? By storming in with his accusations.

He had lost his temper, not that it was anything unusual. You need to control it, Hermione always said, or you will do things you regret. Harry breathed in cold air and chuckled. How wise she was, his dear friend. He didn’t appreciate her enough, didn’t ever give her enough acknowledgement. Harry would never have been where he was today without her, would never have met Dumbledore and… Well, simply put he didn’t know where he would have been, had he not had Hermione by his side. She took care of him and steered him right.

The air was cold against his skin, refreshing as he swallowed it down and let it creep down his throat. The last train had already left so Harry was forced to walk to his flat. It was a distance away from Marleybone, so it allowed him plenty of time to clear his head.

Harry lived in Acton, with Hermione living a stone throw away. As he was getting close to her building an uneasy sensation crept up his spine. It felt like he was being watched and he shivered violently. This… Harry recognised that feeling. It was the same as it had been in Yemen.

Harry looked around. There still was a couple of brave souls out here, but they were all walking away quickly. All hair standing on end, Harry did the same. He walked faster and faster, certain that any second his eyes would meet the red eyes of a beast.

The silence stretched long and Harry could only keep himself loosing all pretence of calm for so long. But as suddenly as it had begun the silence disappeared. From one step to the other, the uneasiness ran off him like water. Harry stopped and looked around. The world seemed different now, _normal_ more like it. Light shone through a couple of windows and the sound of a telly broke the silence. In the distance, a couple was arguing.

Harry looked behind and thought he could see a line of difference. Like a cut in the world where the normal ended and fear took its place. There was no light in the windows where he had passed and no people left outside any longer. But there was nothing odd about the street.

He shook his head, blinked. Was he going insane? Areas didn’t just feel weird for no reason. Right? But that place in Yemen had been the same.

Gathering all the courage he could muster Harry took a step back the way he came. Nothing. Took another and when nothing happened, another. And then it hit him, full force. Shivers down his spine, fear and adrenaline making his blood pump.

“Fuck.” He needed to get out of there. Harry took a step back and once again the feeling drained like it had never been there in the first place.

Harry leaned back against a nearby building, heart racing but not from that fear. Just regular fear now, and confusion. He had passed through that area hundreds of times before and it had never been like that before.

A man passed by, giving him an odd look as he walked back the path Harry had came. The brunette wanted to voice his concern but fear of sounding like a mad-man stopped him. As the man passed the line Harry imagined that he seemed to straighten up slightly, eyes more alert. But he continued on his way and as Harry watched him make his way his steps never seemed to hasten.

Was he insane? Harry shook his head, leaning back once more. He was tired and he needed to get home and rest. In the morning he’d come back and see. The thing would be gone, no doubt about it. He was just tired and his mind making things up.

“That’s it for sure...” he mumbled to himself and pushed away from the wall.

The rest of his way home was uneventful. By the time he let himself inside his small flat Harry was convinced it had been nothing. The more important threat looming was the prospect of facing Hermione’s wrath when she found out Harry had been to see Dumbledore without her and more so, against her express orders. She was bound to go there in the morning and he really didn’t want her to hear it from him.

But which was better, to call now and risk waking her up, or to take the heat when Dumbledore found out? He grabbed the phone, quickly dialling her number. Now was better. She’d have some rest and anything was better than her finding out from someone else. Besides, he wanted to make sure she didn’t tell anything unnecessary.

The phone rang once and then Hermione’s voice message popped up. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, she must have pulled the cord to get a good nights sleep. Thank god.

“Hey ‘mione, it’s me. Uh, so, you know the whole thing about me not going to Dumbledore? Well I might have ended up there… but it’s alright, he’s not mad or anything. But uh, when you meet him please don’t say anything about the mark okay? No need to stress him out…”

The phone beeped and cut the call. Harry winced at the awkwardness of it, but what was done was done. It would probably do. Hermione would be mad but she’d get over it… hopefuly. He’d bring some of her favourite chocolates tomorrow.

With a sigh Harry got ready for bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Any troubles could wait until the next day.

  


Said troubles made themselves known the moment Harry woke up. His phone was ringing angrily, the noise loud in his small apartment. He rolled over to his side and squinted at his alarm clock. Half twelve. There was only one person that call could be from.

For a moment Harry considered staying put and wait for Hermione to give up. He was still tired and the oblivion of sleep had been such a pleasant difference. But she wouldn’t give up, that was for sure. And the longer she had to wait, the fouler her mood would be.

Harry groaned as he rolled out of bed and grabbed the phone.

“Hello.”

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked. “I can’t believe you barged over to Dumbledore in the middle of the night! What were you thinking?!”  
A hypothetical question, Harry was sure. “Not much. Mostly I was just angry.” He yawned.

The screech from the other end was definitively painful. “Harry James Potter! Did I not tell you not to go there? Didn’t you agree?!” He had. “Dumbledore has been our friend and have helped us out so many times, you cannot just barge in on him at any moment, just because you’re mad! And through the balcony! What sort of nitwit climbs a building in central London?! You should be lucky no one called the police on you!”

Harry stifled another yawn and stretched. He was ashamed of his actions, truly, but it had been alright. Dumbledore wasn’t mad so all was well. He wisely kept his mouth shut about that.

“I had to apologise to him on your behalf and I don’t think that will ever be enough! You’ll go over later and apologise in person, you hear?”  
“Yeah, I know, I will.”

“Good. And what’s with that message you sent me? Why are you asking me to withhold information? He’s our informant and knowing that could be crucial, you understand that right?”  
“But you didn’t tell him, right?” Harry answered.

“Of course I didn’t tell him! Unlike someone else here I’d never go against the wishes of my partner.”

Ouch, Harry thought, that truly stung. And it was true as well. He sighed. “Thank you Hermione, you’re the best.”

“Oh.” Harry believed he could hear her deflate on the other end of the phone. “Harry… why didn’t you want him to know?”

“No, it’s just… it’s weird, isn’t it? I don’t want him to think badly of me.”

“Harry, I don’t think Albus could ever think badly about you, especially not for the actions taken by someone else. But I won’t tell him, that’ll be up to you once you are ready.”

“Thanks...” Harry said quietly.

“Now, when will you be getting over here? We’ve got a lot of research to do and I’ve already been to the library to pick up some books I think would help.”

Harry groaned. “First thing in the morning, really?”

“It’s not the morning any longer, Harry.” Hermione said primly. “But wake up properly and take that bath you wanted. I won’t deal with you until then anyway, you’ll just be grumpy.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort but she had already hung up. Just as well, he really did want a bath. Raising his arm, Harry took a quick sniff and recoiled. Scratch that, he needed one.

Hermione did very pointedly not mention anything about the fact that, by the time Harry showed up at her flat, hair wet and considerably cleaner, it had already been hours. She had a stack of books next to her, each with pages marked for reference. Normally, research was Hermione’s favourite part of a good Riddle thwarting, but despite this she looked grim.

“Have you seen the news, Harry?” she asked as he stepped inside and without waiting turned on the television.

“…In the aftermath of the uprising in Yemen yesterday the hunt continues for missing people. Husbands and wives have reported their spouses missing and the search continues. The local authorities are at a loss, as the survivors all seem to have disappeared without a trace…”

Harry watched the images of a ravaged area in Yemen, looking nothing like that peaceful scenery they had visited. The destruction on the buildings weren’t too bad, but it was the people scattered across the street that got to him. He felt his mouth dry and was glad when Hermione shut the telly off.

“Harry,” Hermione said, “This happened really close to where we were. They say some twenty men and women all came rushing, demanding for the people to bow down to their rightful lord. When they refused and tried to talk sense into them they attacked.” She paused and shook her head. “When the authorities finally got there it was night time and the group escaped, or those of them that survived did. The rest is as you saw… But Harry...” at her hesitation he looked straight at her. “There’s something you should see.”

She reached over a newspaper, folded over to an article in the back. It was about Yemen and the picture was crude, showing the body of a clearly dead man. Harry was surprised it had been allowed through the editing.

“Look at the arm, Harry.”

He did. The picture wasn’t the best, but there was a black squiggle on the man’s arm, a snake crawling through the mouth of a skull.

Paling, Harry sat down by Hermione’s kitchen table. “Please don’t tell me that is…”  
“I wish I could. I mean, it’s not identical to yours. But the similarities are too strong to ignore. And the timing. It would have happened almost immediately after we left.”

God. Harry put the paper down but couldn’t quite look away from the picture. It wasn’t anything strange, he had seen dead people before. He had seen them up close and more mutilated, even. But this… They could have stopped this. They should have stopped this. If only Harry had been a bit more stealthy and hadn’t let himself get caught, if they had only stayed instead of running away they would surely have found some way to stop him. But they hadn’t.

And now people were dead and people were missing. From the sound of it conned into some horrid scheme of Riddle’s. How had he convinced them to attack their own people? These had been normal men and women until Riddle got his filthy hands on them. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like it was itching.

“I don’t know what he’s doing, Hermione, but we need to stop him.”

“Way ahead of you!” Hermione pulled the paper out of his hand and pushed a book over in its stead. “Start reading where I’ve highlighted. And don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

They read for hours, Harry’s eyes red and itchy when Hermione finally let up. In the end, what they had found out were scattered pieces of information, nothing sure.

Slytherin was a king, that much was sure. And he had a mark, which always took the form of a snake. There was discussions if it was always the same, or if the design differed, but this both Hermione and Harry already knew about.

The rest of it was vaguer. Some said that the kingdom had been lost due to a great war where the victor wiped the ancient city of the map. Others, like Charlie, said it was a curse. There were rumours of a great treasure existing there and some said it was the key to immortality. Slytherin had supposedly ruled for over two hundred years, after all.

“But then,” Harry commented, “He died in the end, so that’s not much of immortality, is it?”

Hermione also found hints to point out where the city was. But they had already been there, and the information was useless.

“Go home and sleep, Harry.” Hermione said, rubbing at her own eyes. She had been at it for much longer than Harry yet didn’t seem even half as affected. “I’ll finish this book and then tomorrow we’re hitting the library.”

Harry groaned. “Do I have to come?”

She frowned at him.

“Fine, fine. I’m just asking.”

“Good. I’ll come pick you up at 9, and I expect you to be up and _ready_ then. That means no time for a bath.”

“Hermione,” Harry said, face serious, “There’s always time for a bath.”

The night air was as cold as it had been the previous night and rain dripped. Harry shivered. He hadn’t bothered with bringing a proper coat when he came over, but was regretting it now. _You never think ahead_ , Hermione used to say and while he would never say so to her face, right now Harry agreed.

He hurried his steps up, shivering violently. The cold was biting into his very bones and it was starting to feel like he would never get warm again. Along with the uneasiness that had crept up from nowhere, Harry found himself to be in a miserable state.

He stopped. The uneasiness.

“Shit.”

How had he forgotten about that? The street loomed dark and silent in front of him and even the light from the street lights seemed unable to break through the darkness. It was silent. Anything could be hiding in the shadows, waiting for Harry to come close enough for them to gobble him up. He swallowed nervously, forcing himself to move on. This was ridiculous. All he needed to do was to walk 3 blocks and then he would be home, safe and sound. He’d walked through this neighbourhood a million times.

But it had been the same the night before. Yet it was stronger now, strong enough that Harry found himself speeding up until he was running, shoes pelting against the asphalt.

His heart was beating so fast Harry couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his own blood pulsing through his vein, so loud it must be noticeable by all around him. So loud the beast that was bound to lurk in the shadows was able to hear it.

Letting out a gasp, Harry rushed forward and broke through, falling to his knees as he crossed the barrier. His arms were shaking where they held him up on the pavement and his heart kept up its quick rhythm. Harry let his breath come out in the sharp gasps of his exhaustion, barely noticing the people who passed by, giving him a wide berth.

That, he was sure, was not an illusion and it hadn’t happened because he was tired.

When he finally felt stable enough to move again, Harry got up and turned around. The street looked the same as it always had. The lampposts spreading golden light across the road and glinted of the street sign. Saxon Drive. There was no beast and nothing lurking in the shadows. But if he were to take a step back they would be there again, ready to devour.

Releasing a final shaky breath Harry made his way home, determined not to take that path again. Harry took his bath when he came home, the hot water soothing his fears.

When Hermione came over in the morning Harry surprised her by being ready. He had already washed up and eaten, dressed in old but comfortable clothes. They were going to the library, nothing he needed to dress up for.

“Oh!” Hermione said as he opened the door a second after she knocked. “Good morning Harry!” It was said with a perkiness that only could come from a visit to the British library. No matter what happened, his friend would always be delighted going there. Even though she had a reading pass – gained during her archaeological studies and for subsequent work in the area – it was strangely uncommon for her to go there. Perhaps it had been Harry’s fault, dragging her across the world. 

“Morning ‘mione.”

The difference between their moods could hardly have been more different. Harry had tossed and turned all night, unable to let his mind escape from the mind numbing horror he had felt while walking down a normal street. Most assuredly, he had determined, it had to do with the mark. There was nothing else that made sense. And as much as he avoided thinking about it – in fact, Harry had even started wearing scarves or polo-necks to cover up – the mark was never far from his mind. Added to the fact that he had never freaked out over walking through that part of London before and how other people didn’t seem to be nearly as affected, there really could only be one reason. He would never forgive Riddle.

Harry stepped back from the door and waved her in. “Before we leave, could you come in for a moment?”

Frowning, she did as he asked. “What’s wrong, Harry?”  
“Uh,” he sat down on his bed and Hermione took his only armchair, after moving a bundle of clothes to the side. “So, you remember that weird place in Yemen?”

She quirked an eyebrow. “You’ll need to be a bit more specific, Harry.”

“Well, you know, that place where the man didn’t want us to cross.”

“Ah.” She nodded at him to go on.

“Well, remember how I felt very nervous in there?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “And by nervous, I mean I was freaking out. But you weren’t. And you know, then the same thing happened here, like close by. And first I thought nothing of it, but then, well, I thought I was just tired but when it happened on my way back from you yesterday I realised that it can’t possibly have been, because I wasn’t that tired and why there, really? It’s just a piece of street and it’s really strange and I think it has to do with the mark.”

Hermione blinked at him. “What? Harry, tell me that again, but… slower and while making actual sense.”

He took a deep breath, slowing the flow of words. “I… I think the mark has been cursed, like Charlie said. And I think I know what the curse is.”

Her eyes were huge.

“So listen, there is this area, about a block or so, which is just filled with absolute terror to me. No one else seems to be affected and I haven’t ever felt it before. But now it happened, twice in a row. And it’s the same as in Yemen, only stronger.”

Hermione’s fingers twitched as if she wanted to take notes. “And you’re sure it’s the curse? Has anything happened?”

“Well, no I’m not sure. But I’m pretty damned sure it has to do with my mark, it seems too coincidental to be anything else.”

“But nothing has happened?”  
“If you don’t count me being scared out of my wits and making people think I’m headed straight for the mad-house, then no. It’s just, _fear_.” He made himself shudder, thinking about it.

Leaning back in his armchair, Hermione looked concerned. But there was also a glint of excitement in her eyes. “For the time being, I think we better make sure you won’t go near that street again. Just to be on the safe side. But I will go there, later, see what I can find. And...” she paused, seemingly gauging his reaction, “and this is good, actually. It gives us another angle to research.”

Harry groaned. Trust Hermione to turn the worst fear in the world into a research opportunity. He leaned back for a second, shaking his head. Despite not being keen on leaving the safety of his apartment, research really wouldn’t go amiss right now.

“Come on, then,” Harry said while sighing and getting up, “I suppose we better get going.”  
Hermione’s failed attempt at keeping back her excitement as they left the building should have been annoying, but Harry found himself finding it to be endearing. As much issues as he had in his life at the moment he still felt glad for his friend. It did make the whole trip a bit more bearable as well, especially as they sat on the tube and a shiver of fear flashed through him. It was gone as soon as it had come, but Harry could have bet that it happened as the train drove underneath Saxon Drive.

“Shit..” He mumbled to himself, the sound lost in the sounds of the train. Hermione sat next to him, oblivious of his plight and immersed in a book. Even on the way to do research she would still be researching. “’Mione?”

She looked up, eyebrow bent.

“Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

Well, that proved it. Hermione was clearly completely oblivious to it.  
“That flash of fear.”

She shut the book and turned to look at him properly. “You mean from...” she made a gesture upwards.

“Yeah, it had to have been that. Nothing else ever felt so… intense.”

“No, I didn’t feel a thing.” She frowned. “It’s very curious. Maybe we should have stopped by before, either way. Just for me to get a good look...”

Harry stayed silent. There was still time for them to go as long as they got of on the next stop. At worst all they had to do was to catch the subway back. But he didn’t want to suggest it, the brief reminder enough to urge him to stay away.

“No...” Hermione shook her head. “I’ll go later, we don’t want the library to close.”

“That’s not until hours from now!” Harry exclaimed, despite this being to his advantage. “Uh, no wait I mean...”

“Sure, hours, but we need time to look around, don’t we? Or do you know exactly what book we are looking for?” Harry assumed the question was rhetorical as she kept talking. “And we want to do some reading while we are there, there is a limit to what books you can bring with you and a lot of the older tomes you won’t even be allowed to remove, you know?”

Harry got a sudden vision of his future, weighed down by a stack of books, locked in a dark – but not damp – cellar to read for evermore. He shivered. That was not his cup of tea. Hermione aimed a sideways glare at him.

“Oh hush. You know it won’t be that bad.”

“Well, not to you, it won’t. You love that sort of thing, thick books, old lamps that barely give of any light...”

“I do not!” Hermione gasped in outrage. “Do you know how harmful it is for your eyes if you try to read in the dark?!” Harry laughed. “Besides… bad lightning is more of your gig. Don’t tell me you don’t love crawling through old tombs with nothing but a torch!”

How could he possibly disagree with that statement?

  


As expected, the library lobby was mostly empty. Devoid of people except for the avid scholars and one disturbingly familiar figure by the front desk. Harry noticed him and sneered.

“Snape..!” He hissed, catching Hermione’s attention.

The woman frowned but then shook her head. “Don’t pay him any mind, Harry. It’s probably just a coincidence.”

“There’s no such thing as a _coincidence!_ ” Harry snarled and headed off toward him.

“Harry please!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Please don’t make a scene. You know how strict they are here, right? Causing a scene might be exactly what he wants you to do, making them throw us out. Come on...”

Her eyes were pleading and Harry relented. “Fine. But we better get inside quick, because I can’t stand looking at his face for any longer.”

“No problem! Come on, let’s just register our attendance...” She pulled him along to the desk, which Snape had thankfully vacated.

“Hi there!” Hermione chirped at the woman behind the desk, while Harry kept looking back at where Snape was still hoovering in the hall. Shouldn’t he get going already?

“Hello Miss. Do you have a pass?”  
“Indeed I do!” Hermione was never prouder than when she could show off her membership. Not many were accepted to receive one, and fewer women at that. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” the woman read off her pass. “You can go ahead. Do you have a pass, Sir?”

“Uh...” Harry stared at her. He had – unwillingly – joined Hermione at the library before and had never been asked that question.

“Oh no, he’s with me.” Hermione cut in, eyebrows crooked in confusion.

“I’m sorry miss, everyone needs a pass.”

“But I’ve joined her before!” Harry said, while Hermione burst out, “But there’s never been a problem before!”

The receptionist glanced behind them nervously before shaking her head. “… New rules… uh… we can’t let anyone in who doesn’t have a pass.”

Was it Harry’s imagination or was she paler than she had been before. And definitively more twitchy, compared to the complete indifference previously. Harry turned around, looking at what she had been staring at.

Snape glared back at him from a shaded corner of the hall. Of course it was something like that. Harry should have figured. He turned back in a quick move and leaned over the desk, getting close to the woman.

“Did he put you up to this?!”

“W-who, sir?”

Harry had to hand it to her, despite the obvious fear she wasn’t breaking.

“The man you were talking to before, obviously. Tall, greasy hair, resemblant of a bat?”

“No… Of.. of course no one put me up to this. It’s just new rules… is all..”

“Oh is it? So if we were to talk to your manager, he wouldn’t say differently?”  
The receptionist was quiet, staring at him. She looked pale, and scared. With a start, Harry realised that he was very close to her, basically bent over the desk to glare at her. This way he must seem no better than Snape, even. Speaking off..

Harry pulled himself back until he was standing normally, ignoring Hermione’s furious hissing at him.

“Sorry for that. They say my temper can be a bit bad.” He tried giving the woman a calming smile, but judging by her expression he failed. “I’ll just take my conversation with the actual problem himself.”

“Harry no!” Hermione hissed, but he was already striding across the room to where Snape stood. He hadn’t moved at all.

“What are you doing here, you damned undead lapdog?!”

Snape raised an eyebrow, but otherwise remained expressionless. “What am I doing here, you ask? Unlike yourself, I happen to be a member of this fine establishment.” He said in a drawl that made Harry’s hackles raise. “So I believe out of the two of us, I should be asking what _you_ are doing here. This is no place for uneducated brats.”

“Who are you calling uneducated!?” He might never have gone to university, but Harry was pretty sure he could manage better than Snape, of all people.

“I believe that even by asking that question, you have given the rest of us the answer. Would you like a hint?”

Harry snarled and grabbed him by the lapels of his black coat. “You better get the hell out of here you damn dog! Don’t think I don’t you what you’re plotting, you and that bastard Riddle!”

“Harry, stop it!” Hermione said frantically, grabbing his arm. “You can’t do this in here!”

“Ah, the usual reaction of uncouth urchins. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to solve your problems with words and not violence?”

Harry saw red and in a second he had pushed Snape back against the wall, pulling back a fist to smash the greasy git’s smug mouth in. In the next his arm was grabbed by a strong hand and he was firmly pulled away from Snape.

“Sir, we will need to ask you to vacate the premises.”

Harry looked back at the guard holding him firmly as he led him outside. In the distance he could hear the receptionist shout.

“You better bring that woman out as well! She’s no longer welcome here!”

Behind Hermione’s stricken face Harry could see Snape looking as smug as could be. He had a horrible sensation that he had just played right into their hands.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry has anger issues and I’ve taken liberties with how the British library works. But this is supposed to be set in a undefined time period in the past, and according to Wikipedia the library used to be more restricted, so bear with me.
> 
> As always, comments and constructive critcism are welcomed.


	4. In the beginning...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, raise your hand those that asked to wait for a long time to get a chapter about the past? Oh, nobody? Well, here it is anyway.
> 
> Sorry for the lateness and for the very much un-betated state. I edited the roughest patches but honestly there's probably a lot left to be fixed. But on the positive side this chapter is nearly twice as long as my average chapters.

“Harry.” Hermione stood, hair a bushy halo over her head and face pale. “Please, won’t you come with me?”

It was a contrast to her earlier enthusiasm, the way she had practically bounced into his apartment, eyes glowing with happiness. Like someone had flicked a switch her good mood disappeared, leaving the pale figure before him. A shadow of life, comparatively.

“’Mione...” Harry said, “are you sure you want me to? Don’t you think I’ll only be in the way?”

“Of course you will be!” Hermione shook her head. “But I want you to come, nonetheless. That arse Malfoy managed to nestle his way into the group – _I_ bet his his father ‘donated’ a hefty sum – and I just know he’s going to make my time there miserable. The rest of the team all think they’d be better off without a _woman_ coming along. At least with you by my side I’ll have a friend.”

Harry smirked. “And Malfoy will have someone else to antagonise.” He held his breath, worried that might have been insensitive.

The slow smile that spread across her face made him sigh in relief. “Well, that’s just a bonus!”

He let out a quick chuckle. “Well, when you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse?”

“Great! And don’t worry, I’ll arrange everything. The group chartered a boat and we’re mostly gonna be tenting,” she ignored Harry’s grimace and mumbled response that he took it back, “and my tent is big enough for the both of us.”

People, Harry through, were going to talk if they shared a tent. But what the hell, they already did. Hermione did not have an easy time at the university and if his joining would make her trip easier and help her show those prejudiced bastards what was what, then what did it matter if they thought something was going on between them?

“Seems like you’ve got everything figured out. It’s almost like you had this planned.” Harry looked at Hermione, head tilted suggestively. “But you’d never do something like that, would you?”

“Oh, you know me! I’m a perfect angel!”

Said angel didn’t look quite so angelic three weeks later, huddled over the railing of the Thestral. They hadn’t had the time to do much more than set foot on the ferry before Hermione paled and a worried look crossed her face.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, no, I’m fine...” she answered slowly. “I’m sure it’s just temporary. Once I get used to the boat I’ll be peachy.”

Of course, she wasn’t. During the short trip to France Harry had lost track of how many times she had heaved, mostly because he didn’t want to keep track. The only luck they had was that apparently Malfoy was just as sea-sick as her and didn’t get any opportunity to mock her for it.

“Just think about it,” Harry told her, holding her hair back and patting her back, “this could be the start of a beautiful friendship between the two of you. Joined together in the hardships of sea.”

Hermione swatted a hand weakly behind her in an attempt to hit him. She tried again when he danced out of the way and laughed.

“Ugh… just wait until we’re in the car...”

The car ride turned out to be much better. Hermione still looked pale – a side-effect of the boat ride she claimed – but there was no puking, to the great relief of all in the car. The team had held a heated argument over who was to ride with the “potential disasters” as they off-boarded and as a result Hermione and Draco had ended up in the same car, Harry by her side of course. Two unhappy team members, Jordan and Smith if Harry remembered correctly, had been forced to ride with them and they had swiftly claimed the front seats. Hermione in turn had showed Harry to the middle seat, refusing to sit next to Malfoy. They still glared daggers at each other across of him and Harry sighed and resigned himself to a long trip.

Miraculously, Malfoy too seemed to handle the car ride much better. While Harry was glad he wouldn’t be spending the journey next to a complete mess – he could just imagine the horror with the sound and the smells... – Malfoy had managed an almost complete recovery. And that meant all that pent up frustration went straight toward antagonising Hermione. Normally she would have stuck her head in a book, but as things were there was nothing but the unfiltered sound of Malfoy’s voice.

“It’s because you insisted on bringing your peasant boyfriend that we weren’t able to travel in style,” he said, “bringing him totally screwed up our budget. What’s wrong, huh, can’t handle a trip on your own? This… this is why women aren’t suited for this profession.”

That wasn’t the first time Malfoy had brought the subject up, whinging on an on about the same subject. At first, Hermione answered him, telling him that the cost of Harry’s tickets had been paid separately and wasn’t going from the fund, that they hadn’t been able to go on a plane because it was too expensive with all the equipment anyway and that Malfoy was a git and should shut up. Yet he brought the topic up, again and again, and now Hermione had simply taken to ignoring him.

But there was something horribly grating with his voice and it dug into Harry’s head. Being called a peasant every other breath wasn’t particularly nice either. It wasn’t the worst he had been called though, so Harry wisely kept his mouth shut.

Until he couldn’t take it any more and leaned forward, turning to the driver.

“Hey, could we have the radio on, maybe?”

Jordan’s forehead had been crunched up into a deep frown, but he perked up at Harry’s suggestion. “Excellent idea, Harry!” He reached forward to turn the dial. “Hermione bringing you pays off already.”

The radio came alive with a hiss and a whine, followed by loud static.

“Wrong channel, probably.” Jordan twiddled with the dial, attempting to find the correct setting. More static, interrupted by the brief sound of someone talking, too gnarled to make out what they were saying. And in French, most likely.

Harry sighed. “Still better than the sound of Malfoy’s voice, right?” He said quietly to Jordan, who grinned.

The sound of Malfoy’s voice grating on in the background abruptly stopped. Harry froze. Shit, had he heard that?

“Well,” Jordan said and cleared his throat, “nothing on the radio, eh?” He turned it off and Harry slid back to sit properly in his seat.

“So...” Malfoy said as he stilled, “how does it feel to be a peasant so poor his _girlfriend_ has to pay for him? Doesn’t it make you feel like less of a man?”

Up until that point Malfoy had mostly ignored him and Harry had been okay with that. In fact, after seeing the consequences one could say that everyone in the car had been okay with the mostly ignorable squabble between Malfoy and Hermione. Ten minutes in of the blonde antagonising Harry they had to stop the car and switch seats to avoid a fight.

The rest of the trip was, to say the least, tense. After a thorough scolding from Hermione, followed by an equally heartfelt urging to “just ignore him, Harry”, he spent most of the ride staring out the window. Hermione had been forced to take the middle seat as Smith, pissy already for having to move to the back seat, refused to sit in the middle and no one wanted Harry and Malfoy to sit that close. In the passenger seat Malfoy looked smug and kept on talking. Probably, Harry believed, because he knew how much it bothered Harry. Until they stopped for the night Jordan kept flipping the radio on and off, on and off. He never found anything but static.

With a beginning like that no one in the team was in a good mood as they arrived at the excavation site. The weather was hot, too hot, the people who had pointed them in the right direction had seemed rude and they were now facing a day full of setting up camp.

Harry would have run off to explore, but Malfoy’s comments about him being a useless tag-along still stung and so he put all effort into help out with the set up. He wasn’t even there to be helpful, but he’d be damned if he let the rich git be right. Harry suddenly understood why Hermione had been quite as concerned as she was.

Said git wasn’t doing much good himself, hiding in the shade of a parasol and inspecting his nails.

“Seems like this isn’t quite up to his highness standards either.” Harry mentioned to Hermione as she held a tent spike for him to drive into the ground. “Think it’ll be my fault we aren’t living in a palace?”

Hermione let out a most unladylike snort. “Of course it is, Harry! Don’t you know that every extra penny counts towards getting the grand suite? I hear the difference between tenting and living like kings were just a matter of dollars, so your appearance certainly busted it.”

“Ack!” Harry put his hand over his heart. “I have ruined this trip for all of you! I must go make amends!”

Their laughter rang out across the ground, attracting curious and annoyed eyes.

“If you have time to joke around, then you can work faster!” Malfoy sneered at them.

“Or you could help,” Harry replied, tired of holding his tongue, “but then again I doubt you’d even know how to use a hammer.”

Malfoy sneered. “I’m overseeing, Potter. Although I’m certain your pea-sized brain isn’t capable of understanding the importance of it.”

“You’re right about that. For a party of eight I don’t understand how you walking around and making snide comments is going to help.”

The sneer deepened and then the blonde walked away.

“This is gonna be a fun month, huh?”

“So fun.” Harry agreed.

 

It wasn’t fun. Hermione seemed excited but to Harry there wasn’t much but a bunch of slow digging, stopping every so often to move carefully around, prodding the earth, brushing with soft brushes. Hermione told him all about it at night when they had gone to bed, but Harry didn’t get much.

“So it’s all ancient stuff, right?” Harry asked and Hermione had scoffed.

“You’re so clueless, Harry! _Ancient stuff…_!”

It didn’t take long before Harry decided that enough was enough and that he wasn’t going to be staying around to watch them move the dirt around. Besides, Hermione was doing fine. Aside from some initial squabbles and snippy comments, the team seemed to have realised that she was quite an asset and an easy fellowship was building. Harry didn’t quite manage to get himself included in that, possibly because he kept getting into fights with Malfoy. But he shook it off and told himself: it’s a month.

Still, a month was a long time to sit restless and bored. So he decided to go exploring. Hermione told him not to go too far, the areas outside weren’t populated and it would be too easy for him to get lost.

Harry told her not to worry and on the third day of exploring, promptly found that he didn’t know the way back. The forest around him wasn’t thick, but it was expansive and settled down into a shallow valley, stubbly mountains covering the view in the distance.

As a matter of course he decided that getting to higher ground would be the sensible option. From higher up he would be able to see the camp, surely. There was always a fire burning and he’d be able to see the smoke.

Getting up on the mountain was an issue in and off itself. The mountain might have been of a shorter kind, but that didn’t mean it was small. And the rise of the cliff was sharp and didn’t let him carelessly saunter up it like had managed most of the other mountains. By the time he had reached a height that let him watch across the forest his hands were torn and stinging.

“Shit..” Harry mumbled, rubbing gently at his palm to get some of the dirt out. He had a vague awareness that it would be bad to let it sit untended for too long. “That way you’ll get an infection...” he murmured, copying one of Hermione’s words of wisdom. He had some water in a flask and Harry considered using some to wash his hands. But then, if he didn’t get back to the camp soon it’d leave him dehydrated and that was probably worse.

He shook his head, sweat slithering down his forehead as he did so. It was better to conserve the water for now. He’d make it back to camp and there they’d be able to help him out.

That said… Harry looked at the view in front of him. It was rather breathtaking, a large vista of mountains looming in the distance and the forest lush and green below. And there, some distance below, was the fire. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was closer than he had expected even, just a stone throw away. He must have gotten turned around at some point and doubled back on his path, because he had walked much further than _that_.

Still, that was good. Close was good and in the future he’d be careful to listen to Hermione’s advice. He used to joke that she was always right, but in reality it wasn’t so much of a joke as it was the truth.

“Still, I hate it when she’s right...” Harry mumbled and then shook his head. Talking to himself like a madman. He hadn’t even been lost for more than a couple of hours. It was definitively time to be heading back.

Taking careful stock of where he was to go – using the sun and the mountains to place himself as well as he could – Harry made his way down again. This time he took a different slope and it was much easier. Had he not been so lazy before he could have saved himself a lot of trouble Harry thought as he jogged downwards. But lazy or not, at least he was on his way back now.

It took him quite a while, longer than he had expected, which rather felt lit should be expected by then, but Harry finally made it to a clearing with a fire burning brightly. It was all good, except that it wasn’t the fire of their camp.

Harry paused, still sheltered by the trees. Was there some sort of courtesy given when stumbling upon a camp in the middle of a forest? Should he knock? Harry scanned the area before him. It looked rather empty, no one visible among the tents. But the fire was burning, so surely someone was there.

He took a step forward, ready to announce himself and ask for their help in finding his way back, when someone appeared in his line of sight. It was a pair of men, short shaven and dressed in khakis. They looked rather military, especially when you added the guns casually slung across their backs.

It was reasonable to bring guns out into the wilderness, the team of archaeologist Harry was with had brought a couple of hunting rifles along to protect against eventual wild animals and Harry himself had a small pistol for emergencies, but those were not the kinds of gun these men had. Heavy duty assault rifles and belts with extra shells. Enough to defend them from a whole jungle of animals if needed.

While Harry’s bravery on occasion outmatched his brains, he wasn’t stupid enough to walk straight into that. Whatever these men were doing they weren’t the friendly sort who’d be happy to help him find his way back to camp. Harry shuffled behind a tree, heart beating fast as adrenaline pumped through his veins. Nothing had really happened, he told himself, and then, calm down.

The men walked a round through the camp and disappeared among the tents. Harry sunk down along the trunk, his heartbeat slowing and curiosity rising.

What would these men be doing out here in the middle of nowhere, decked out for a serious fight? There wasn’t anything here but mountains and woods and, Harry supposed, the occasional old ruins of a settlement. He couldn’t figure what they might want with any of that. Taking Hermione’s words for it he already knew that you didn’t get rich from discovering things about the past, but rather that it was a _passion_.

Harry could believe that, so why were these men here? There was a lot of tents in the clearing so a lot more of those soldiers were bound to be around. Expensive, that, bringing a whole lot of armed men into the forest. There’d better be a real expensive treasure to make it worth the while…

He paused, even stopped moving for a while. A _treasure!_ Of course that was it. Archaeology itself wouldn’t pay the bill but if you found a heap of ancient gold that was bound to earn you a fortune.

Harry’s heart was racing again, but this time from excitement. A real life treasure would be something absolutely amazing, like the books he read when young. Treasure island. Except it wasn’t on an island but mainland Greece. Well, that was just details.

Before he was aware of taking the decision Harry was moving, skulking along the trees to see if he could find where the rest of the team had gone. There was another pair of guards as he neared the other end of the camp, standing in front of a tent that was larger than the rest of them. Their leader’s, surely.

As Harry watched the other pair of soldiers came over and exchanged casual greetings, reporting that all was calm. He raised an eyebrow as he realised they were speaking English with quite distinctly British dialects. The way they addressed each other made Harry change his mind. These probably weren’t proper soldiers but rather mercenaries. Crooks then, Harry guessed.

A small part of his mind urged him to turn around now but for the most part he was just filled with a terrible excitement. This was just becoming more and more like a proper adventure.

Now, if he could only figure out where to go. Behind the large tent Harry caught sight of a structure made out of light stone and clearly broken down. He blinked. How had he missed those ruins up until now?

A wide grin bloomed across his face and Harry wasted no time in making his way over there. Closer up it was clear that the ruins were quite large, yet mostly overgrown by trees and other plants. It was also obvious that this was where all the people were, armed men going back and forth as Harry peered through a hole in a wall. No obvious treasure but the men were busy searching.

“Anything?”

The voice made Harry startle and he looked toward the sound of it. In what had once been a doorway a tall man stood, black hair gleaming softly in the light. He had piercing grey eyes and a handsome face. _There’s even a proper handsome villain_ , Harry thought and then blushed. It really was turning into a perfect adventure.

“Nothing yet, my Lord.”

Another man had approached the leader, lanky and with greasy hair. He had a displeased look on his face but the words were subservient.

The first man – the villain, Harry dubbed him in his mind, despite not even knowing why they were there – frowned slightly. He gazed across the ground and up toward the sky.

“It’s getting dark out. Better get the lights.”

The greasy man bowed as the villain walked forward, and then started yelling orders. Some of the men stopped their search to run back to camp, bringing back tall floodlights. They placed them around the area under the supervision of the greasy man.

Meanwhile, the grey eyed devil – Harry shook his head for even thinking it, no matter how well it fit – walked forwards and partly disappeared behind the trees. His head was tilting this and that way, obviously searching for something.

When he had vanished from sight Harry tore himself away from the hole he had been watching through. The man was correct, the sky had turned from a clear blue and light was fading fast. Harry found himself torn between the instinct of turning back or staying there.

Leaving felt risky, he didn’t know his way back and could end up wandering the mountains until he fell to his death. On the other hand, men with guns. Harry didn’t know what they were capable of or if they would actually make use of them should they find him out there. It seemed rather extreme, but then, Harry knew that people were more than capable of it. A shiver ran down his spine and he shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to think of all the ways they could kill him.

Harry wandered a short way into the woods and settled back against a tree. If he didn’t want to find out how far those mercenaries were willing to go, he just had to make sure they didn’t see him. They mostly stayed inside the ruins so staying there was a safer bet than trying to find his way back.

He sunk down further, and got his pack open. He still had a full bottle of water and a couple of sandwiches from the lunch he had forgotten to eat. It wasn’t much but it would tide him over and in the morning he’d make his way back to the camp. Harry’s eyes glanced at the ruins and his ears twitched as he listened to the sounds of the men roaming in it. He’d make his way back to camp. No matter how curious he got.

Harry managed to keep to his tree for couple of hours before finding himself by the ruins again. It was boring to do nothing and they were _still_ going at it in there. They had thrown the switch on a generator – the sound of it rumbling loudly through the air – and lights had flooded the place. Running that many lamps must take a lot of power and he was amazed at the need to keep looking, even after dark. What was the big hurry?

Under the bright light Harry noticed that the ruins were a lot larger than he had originally thought. They seemed to stretch far through the woods, a marked like a path of light.

The greasy haired man was still overseeing but the leader seemed to be nowhere to be found. Most likely getting some actual sleep, that one. Harry peered through the hole for a while, taking it all it. He sure as hell couldn’t find any secret entrances in there, but then, maybe that was the point.

Getting restless, Harry followed the wall forwards, taking care to duck and move carefully past places where the buildings had crumbled to barely anything. It wasn’t too risky, he told himself, because the bright lights were all facing inwards and he was outside in the darkness. Just another shadow.

He made it around the corner without anyone spotting him and found that there was now a long stretch of wall, interspersed by windows.

“Perfect...” he whispered to himself and snuck up close to one, raising his head carefully to take in the scene. More mercenaries, lifting rocks and barging around with all the grace of a hog looking for truffles. It seemed a bit rude to him, treating that place in such a way.

Watching the mercenaries was also pretty boring, if Harry was honest with himself. At least until they started talking. By that point Harry had moved far enough that the leader and his greasy friend were out of sight, and likely out of earshot as well.

“Boss has gone crazy, this time.” A mountain of a man rumbled as he heaved a rock over his shoulder, nearly hitting his companion. “’aving us lugg rocks in the middle of the night!”

“Psh!” the smaller man – though he was by no means small by normal measures – hissed. “Don’t speak of the Boss like that. You remember what happened to Karkaroff...”

The big man shuddered, slightly. “Ye, I remember. But still… This es weird, right? What’s he looking for?”

The other man gave him a sour look. “The entrance, you big oaf!” When his companion seemed to keep talking he raised his voice slightly. “And that’s all we need to know, right.” It wasn’t a question. The man walked away, mumbling to himself. “Don’t drag me into it if you’re feeling suicidal…”

Hmm, Harry thought, definitively villains. He really should reconsider what he was doing and leave while he had the chance…

He never got to find out if he would actually take his own advice as a twig snapped in the woods behind him and Harry found himself attacked. Letting out a gasp Harry twisted in their grip, ready to defend himself. Hermione’s brown eyes glared at him balefully.

“Hermione..!” Harry hissed, remembering only at the last second to keep his voice quiet. And then he froze before crouching down by the wall, pulling her down with him.

“Harr-!”

“Shh!” he whispered, covering her mouth. “Just wait a little...”

They fell silent, the only sound their breathing. Harry could hear the men still going at it and no one stepped to look around and outside of the walls. He let out a sigh.

“Sorry Hermione,” whispered said, and let her go. “I’ll explain over there, come on...”

Grabbing her wrist Harry pulled her with him as he headed away from the wall and into the darkness of the forest. Unfortunately they had only made it a couple of steps when the ground crumbled beneath their feet and a scream tore itself out of his throat. Hermione’s scream followed like an echo. Harry didn’t stop screaming until their wild slide had ended and he impacted hard with the ground.

In what should have been a resounding silence Harry heard the yells and running of a lot of men startled by their sudden appearance. A lot of men with guns.

“Shit...” his voice came out a bit winded. “Hermione, are you okay?”

“Ugh… I’m fine, I think...”

“Good, then come on, we gotta get out of here!”

Harry pulled her to her feet and looked around wildly. The cave they were in was dimly lit up by a distant floodlight and it was vast. It looked as thought they had fallen in through the roof of an old chamber. It also became quickly obvious there was nowhere to hide and they would never be able to climb back up in time.

Spinning on the spot, Harry swore to himself.

“We’ll need to go further inside! Maybe if they...”

“Hey!”

The sharp glare of a torch shone down on them and Harry froze, posed to run deeper. He glanced back. There was only one man so far, pretty good odds. They could still get away.

“Hey, I’ve found them! Over here!”

“Harry!” Hermione hissed, grabbing his arm. “It’s too late!”

“You guys down there! Don’t move an inch.” The light moved from side to side, scanning the area and Harry heard the mercenary whistle. “This is some cave...”

Hermione’s grip tightened on his arm and Harry forced himself to relax. She was right, even if it was just one guy now there was no way they wouldn’t follow them. He turned around slowly. By then the man had been joined by others and he winced as someone shone their torch in his eyes.

“Christ do they need to do that?” He raised his arm to cover his eyes, only to freeze again as he heard the clicking sound of someone disabling their safety.

“Now, now...” The voice was deep and melodic and Harry was pretty sure he had heard it before. “No need to be so tense. Lower your gun, before you injure yourself.”

“S-sorry, my Lord!”

Under the cover of his arm Harry blinked up, but all he saw was shadows and the bleary darkness. He did hear when someone made their way down the hole and felt the clatter of pebbles against his feet.

“Snape, Pettigrew, with me. The rest of you secure the perimeter and get back to your posts.”

There wasn’t an audible response, but Harry blinked as the light finally moved away from him. When he lowered his arm he found himself face to face with the man who – and now there was no doubt about it – was the leader. He was looking at Harry with a small smirk, cold eyes assessing every part of him.

Harry swallowed and found that despite having a gun pointed at him not a minute ago this was ten times as unnerving. He barely noticed as two men made their way down the hole. When the man turned his eyes to assess Hermione instead Harry let out a breath.

“Well, hello.” The leader said, after making Hermione almost blush from his scrutiny. He was looking at Harry again, an unreadable expression on his face. “Out for a late night stroll?”

“Uh...” Harry said, “No, it’s… I… we got lost.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes!” Hermione chimed in. “We’re with the archaeological expedition, looking at the ruins of an Aeolian settlement. Harry here was going out to have a look around and when he didn’t return I went to look for him. Luckily I saw the light from here and figured it must be Harry who built a fire and I guess he thought the same thing? But the moment I saw him the ground caved in and here we are.”

Harry was amazed she didn’t need to gasp for breath, he didn’t think she had stopped even once during that explanation. It was mostly true, but it sounded made-up. He doubted these people would accept it.

“Ah, our neighbours. I’d heard you were up here in the mountains as well, but I hadn’t realised you were so close.”

Apparently, he was wrong. Harry had to force himself to keep up a mask of gentle honesty.

“Oh, we didn’t even know we had neighbours up here,” Hermione laughed, still nervous but at least she had slowed down. “We were lucky, really, that you were here. I don’t think I’d have ever found Harry otherwise.” She patted him on the back and it felt more like being beat, especially when she hit the fresh bruises. Harry hid his wince with a smile. “But where are my manners?” Hypothetical question, Harry assumed, because Hermione had always had the firm belief that manners were usually unnecessary. “I’m Hermione Granger and this is Harry Potter.”

The man smiled then, widely. “Nice to meet you, Hermione, Harry. I’m Tom Riddle.”

But manners was something Harry could do. Petunia would never have abided a rude child – even if impeccable manners didn’t always fulfil those demands.

“Nice to meet you!” Harry said and held out his hand.

Riddle took it and shook. He had a firm grip and a perfectly practised shake. Harry wondered what a man who shook hands like a politican did in the middle of a Greek forest with an army.

“But I forget, these are my associates, Snape and Pettigrew.”

Harry blinked and turned to look at them. With Tom Riddle in front of him it was easy to forget the presence of others.

The _associates_ both nodded and Pettigrew stammered out a greeting. Snape only spared them a passing glare before looking around the cave.

“So...” Riddle looked at them and then meaningfully at their surroundings. “I’d be happy to put you up until it gets light. But perhaps you’d be more comfortable in the camp?”

“I think that’s---” Hermione started saying.

“My Lord, have a look at this!”

In an instant, Riddle’s attention moved from them to where Snape was pointing. The light from his torch shone upon a relief on the wall depicting an overflowing cornucopia. The gleeful grin that spread across Riddle’s lips was not a kind one.

Apparently forgetting all about Harry and Hermione – but what would they do just because his attention wavered? Harry glanced a look upwards and there was still a couple of armed soldiers standing guard at the edge of the cave-in – Riddle approached the relief.

Harry couldn’t help but stare as Riddle reached out to brush away ancient dirt. The relief was carved in the wall and done so with great detail. As the dirt was cleared away text was revealed, not that it helped Harry any. The ancient writing might as well have been hieroglyphs for all that he cared. But it was obvious that it meant something to Riddle.

“This is it, Severus.” He said, “This is really it..!” He looked deeper inside and opened his mouth and then seemed to rethink it. “I’m sorry about that.” Riddle turned around to face them. “You see, I’ve been looking for this place for quite some time now, I’m sure you understand, and this discovery is indeed very welcome.”

“So what’s down there?” Harry asked without thinking. He really was curious about it.

Riddle blinked at him. “What’s down there? Oh, nothing but ancient findings.”

“So no treasure?”

Something in Riddle’s eyes grew dark and Harry could have kicked himself. Why was he prying?

Riddle let out a quick chuckle and resumed his friendly look. “Treasure is in the eyes of the beholder, wouldn’t you agree Mr. Potter? I’d be adverse to say no when it will be worth a lot to me. But I’m certain others wouldn’t quite find the same value in it as I do.”

This time Harry was able to bite down on the next question and accusation that Riddle truly hadn’t told them anything.

“Unfortunately this means I will have to give up my duties as a host. I will have Mr. Pettigrew here escort you back to camp. He’ll make sure you get settled in and have a place to spend the night.”

“Oh, okay.” Hermione said. She seemed rather relieved.

But there was something… Perhaps it was the cold look Riddle threw their way or the miniscule nod in Pettigrew’s direction but it sent a shiver down his spine. From the corner of his eye Harry could see the associate fiddle with something at his belt.

“Would you mind if we tag along?” Harry blurted the question without thinking, eyes scanning the cave nervously. He took a step closer to Riddle and to the darkness at the end of the cave, even as Hermione shook her head.

“Really, Harry! Don’t be rude, you understand that’s not---!”

He didn’t listen, just reached out to get a hold of her hand, eyes firmly focused on Riddle. The man’s face was completely expressionless, but there was anger in his eyes. Harry took another step forward, intentionally ending up in the shade of a pillar.

Riddle cocked his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His eyes had caught Harry’s and they were assessing, calculating. Harry barely dared to breathe.

When Riddle’s eyes shifted Harry was ready and he pulled Hermione behind the partial cover of the pillar. The shot rung out a split second later, biting into the old stone.

“What!?” Hermione gasped and stared at Pettigrew and his smoking gun.

Riddle hissed. “Useless! Get them!” and Pettigrew fired off another shot.

Harry decided that now was a good time to get going and pulled Hermione along into the darkness of the cave. There was a valve there, leading them out of the cave and onto a dark path. Shots rang out as they ran, but the good thing about darkness was that if they couldn’t see where they were going, Riddle and his men sure as hell couldn’t see them either.

The corridor they rushed down seemed to be mostly straight, but Harry ran with his hand against the wall to be sure. When the surface suddenly ended he almost tumbled head first into the hole, pulling Hermione with him.

“Ack!”

The space behind was larger than Harry had first expected and instinctively he crawled further inside, not letting go of Hermione.

“Come on, in here.”

The corridor outside was already lit up by a torch and a panting Pettigrew appeared outside of the hole. There was the sound of others, but they were distant so far. Harry froze and begged that Pettigrew wouldn’t turn and just keep going. They were sitting ducks in there, there was no way he wouldn’t see them if he turned.

As if summoned by his very thought Pettigrew stopped and his head began to turn. Hermione acted without hesitation, jumping out and bashing his head with a broken piece of the wall. The man went down soundlessly, his torch falling to the ground and sending the light scattering. Hermione grabbed it and as she did so someone yelled in the distance.

“Shit!” She swore and Harry pulled her back inside as the first shot rang out.

In the light of the torch Harry could see that they were inside of a room and there was a door on the other side.

“Come on!”

Neither of them hesitated as Harry threw the door open, splintering the old wood in the process. Harry grimaced at the sound but kept going. Hermione took the lead and brought him though another small room to a place where the wall had fallen out.

In the background, Harry was acutely aware of the mercenaries following them. It sounded like Riddle had brought in his entire army. So perhaps, Harry begrudgingly thought, perhaps he shouldn’t have acted on his instincts. Too late to regret it now.

The hole in the wall lead them to another corridor, this one twisting and turning as they rushed down. There was a lot of corridors connected and they made sure to turn every so often. The sounds of Riddle’s men grew more and more distant as they went onwards.

When it was finally quiet the pair risked a chance to slow down and take a break.

“God, _hah_ , Hermione… we’re,” he paused to take a breath, “we’re never doing this again...”

Harry leaned against a wall to catch his breath. It felt strange beneath him, uneven and rough.

“Hey, let me borrow the torch.” Harry gestured at Hermione who gave it to him without a word. She was sitting on the ground, completely out of breath, face red and sweat running down her face. Of course, sitting at a desk all day wasn’t ideal for building stamina. Not that Harry was much better but…

He turned around and had a closer look at the wall. It was decorated with the same carvings as Riddle had seen; a large cornucopia filled to the brim. And underneath something was written.

“Hey, ‘mione… can you read this?”

“Uh...” She got back on her feat and limped over slowly. “Let me see...” Running a hand over the writings she frowned. “It’s rather garbled… and the style doesn’t match...”

That much was obvious even to Harry. Where the relief had been made with care the writing was sloppy and quick.

“Those who worship… death...” She shook her head. “This is almost unreadable… I’d need time and my dictionary to make proper sense of this...”

“Not to put you on the spot, ‘mione, but we have neither of those here. We’d better find our way out before Riddle finds us again. Does the writing say anything about that?”

She shook her head. “No, this, it’s something about a punishment for those who worship death? And judging by the cornucopia – which was often used as a symbol for Hades, you know – perhaps this was one of his temples?” She suddenly shone up. “Harry, this is absolutely amazing! Do you know how rare it is to find a temple dedicated to Hades? Most were too scared of him to even depict him in art, much less make him a temple!”

She looked around, suddenly perky. Harry wished he could share her enthusiasm.

“I wonder what happened here..? Was that written by intruders who didn’t agree with having a temple dedicated to Hades? But then why did they leave the temple standing?”

She grabbed the torch out of Harry’s hand and continued down the hallway, looking for something else to tell her what had happened.

“Hermione, are you sure we should go that way? We want to get out of here, remember?”

“Oh Harry,” she shook her bushy mane, “do you know the way out? Because I don’t think I could find my way back even if I wanted to run straight into the arms or Riddle’s men. So this path is as good as any, don’t you think?”

He sighed but didn’t argue. There had to be an actual exit somewhere and Harry supposed it was better to face the dark recesses of this temple than to get shot. But by god was he tired and aching. Now that the adrenaline had gone down he was suddenly aware of how much his back hurt. Hermione was limping in front of him but she didn’t seem to notice it.

“Hey, hold up!”

“What?”

“You can’t keep walking like that. Let me wrap your ankle up.”

Hermione looked down at her foot as if she only then realised there was something wrong. “Oh.”

Harry took off his backpack and rummaged through it. He had a first aid kit in there somewhere, given to him by Jordan when he first decided to go exploring. He mentally thanked the man now.

Once Hermione’s foot was properly wrapped up they continued. Harry had wanted to find a room to rest in – there were a lot of them there with slowly rotting doors – but Hemione hadn’t wanted to and a casual glance inside one had deterred Harry further. Hermione had wondered what had happened to the people and Harry figured that the corpse in the bed was answer enough to that.

“A rather cruel way to do it,” Harry mused. “Killing them in their sleep. Leaving them no chance to defend themselves.”

“But clever,” Hermione interjected. “And it probably saved them a lot of lives.”

“Well, saved one side a lot of lives, you mean.”

Hermione sniffed. “Well, it was clever, at least. Efficient.”

The corridor led them past more carvings of the cornucopia and sometimes the same writing was there. There were no branches from this one and Harry started to get tired of the continuous pathway that only reflected more of the same. Even Hermione seemed to find it boring after a while. There was nothing new for her to discover.

When the corridor finally ended it opened up into another great hall. This one was richly decorated with reliefs painted a gleaming black. There were several doors leading there and in the centre, in front of a huge statue of what Hermione said must be Hades, corpses were laid out. And in the midst of all that there was Riddle.

The pair backtracked quickly, pressing flat against the walls next to the doorway. Harry peaked out through the side but it seemed no one had noticed them. The mercenaries were patrolling but Riddle and Snape were focused on something on the floor.

“Shit, how did we manage to run into them again?!” Harry hissed. “Should we go back?”

The corridor stretched out behind them, a long distance backwards. He didn’t much feel like walking back, only to discover that whatever other path he chose led to the same chamber.

Hermione shook her head. Her eyes seemed to be gleaming. “We can’t go back now, Harry!”

So instead they watched as Riddle worked on whatever it was on the floor. He carelessly pushed a couple of corpses out of his way and when people moved Harry could see a circle on the floor. Like the rest of the decorations this one was coloured bright black and Harry thought it had a pattern that looked a bit like a helmet. Odd.

“It’s here, Severus,” Riddle said while looking around. “We just need to find… ah!”

He rushed off with long steps towards the statue and disappeared out of sight. It only took a moment but then something whirred and the circle in the floor began to spin, disappearing slowly to the side.

Riddle returned, grinning and he led the way down into the darkness. Snape stayed long enough to bark a couple of orders before following, about half of the men joining them.

“Dammit, why aren’t they all going?” Hermione swore.

“Probably to stop us from following. Do you think we can sneak past them?”

They both looked inside again, assessing the situation. Now that Riddle had taken half of the men away the few that were left didn’t seemed fewer in the large hall. They were mostly facing the wrong way, looking out through different entrances. The main issue was the guy who stood guard over the actual entrance – sneaking past a guy across an open floor seemed to Harry like it was a bit out of their league.

“There,” Hermione pointed. “If they all stay like this we can get past by using the statue as cover. The guy guarding the entrance is facing the other way and the only other person who seems likely to see us is him.”

Harry noted the guy, big and bulky. Compared to his size they were flies. They would need to take him out quietly but he wasn’t so sure they could manage. Even the sound of him falling would be enough to alert the others. So, what then?

Harry tilted his head and considered the room. “Do you think we could create a distraction?” He paused. “Do you think they’d be stupid enough to check it out if I threw a rock?”

Hermione made a thoughtful face and then shrugged. “It might work. He doesn’t look to be the brightest of the bunch.”

“Alright, then.” Harry crouched low and moved forward, stopping to hide behind a pillar. A piece of the roof had fallen in next to it and he picked up a couple of small rocks before pushing onward. The room was circular in shape, with pillars spaced evenly in a smaller circle just a couple of meters from the wall. A heavy sort of balcony rested on top of them, but as far as Harry could tell it was deserted.

With the exception for the big guy all mercenaries were facing outwards, staring into the shadows of the various corridors. There wasn’t enough of them to cover all entrances and they made up for it by patrolling their areas, switching between different points of entry. That was actually useful, Harry figured, provided he could time it right.

Slowly, Harry made his way across the room, Hermione following after when the coast was clear. He waited for her to join him by the last pillar before the statue. Mr. big guy stood unmoving, staring out across the floor.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad...” He whispered, heart beating fast and making adrenaline rush. Now that they weren’t outright shot at this was actually kind of fun. “Here I go, okay?”

Harry brought out one of the rocks he had collected and took aim, sending the rock clinking into the shadows behind the big guy.

“Huh?” he turned around, eyes scanning. “Who’s that?!”

“Goyle, what’s going on?” The mercenary by the hole asked.

“I thought I heard something...”

“Well, go check it out then! Our Lord will have our hides if we let them get away!”

The big guy grunted and moved off, steps slow and lumbering. Harry glanced around, the other mercenary was still looking in his direction.

“Crap. Look away, look away, look away...” Harry murmured under his breath.

“Find anything?”

“Nah...” Goyle answered.

“Well take another look and then get back to your post!” The mercenary ordered before turning back. “Useless lump...”

One person gone the other looking away…

“Come on Hermione, this is it!” Harry led the way as they ran as quickly and as silently as they could across the space, stopping only to sneak the last part as they ended up straight behind the mercenary guarding the hole. He didn’t turn around as Harry looked down and set foot on the first of many footsteps, nor when Hermione followed. A few steps later and they were out of sight.

The stairs wound down into darkness. In the darkness the stairs seemed to go on forever, just a slow spiralling descent. When they finally reached the bottom Harry almost fell, Hermione bouncing into his back.

“Ack!”

The sound echoed and they both froze, fearful that it would be heard. But there was no sound of alarm or footsteps.

“Here...” Hermione said, and with a click she turned the torch on. The beam struggled to light up what was a huge chamber. The stairs they had descended were at the centre of the room and eight paths led away.

“It’s the same… right?” Harry asked pointing up to the faint light visible above them. “As that room.”

Hermione nodded.

“So which way do we go?”

“Your guess is as good as mine...” Hermione muttered. “Maybe there are some clues on the walls?”

They crossed the room, examining the walls as well as they could. Between two of the openings there was a carving of the cornucopia again.

“Well, it’s a little bit obvious but...” Hermione muttered.

“...but it’s all we got.” Harry finished for her. “Let’s go!”

Unlike the corridor up above this one was strange, with sharp turns and sudden descents. The walls were roughly cut and seemed to have been done in a hurry. There was no sign of Riddle or his men yet and Harry supposed that it was a good thing.

When they reached the end of the corridor it was to find themselves in a small circular room. The walls were richly decorated with figures and in the centre of the room was a pedestal. An old helmet rested on top of it, dusty but seemingly untouched by age.

Harry took a slow lap around it and stumbled over an ancient corpse. “Ahh!”

Harry untangled himself, trying and failing to disturbing the corpse even more. As he got up it fell over, bones clinking against the stone floor. Unlike the others they had seen this person didn’t appear to have been murdered, the remains of skin stretched into a satisfied smile.

“Creepy…” Harry said but Hermione only shrugged.

“It’s a corpse Harry. Of course it’s creepy.” She turned to him, eyes glued to the walls. “But I’m more curious about these carvings. They seem to describe some sort of tale, this man who commandeers armies and who… disappears?” She pointed to a series of pictures showing less and less of a man. “It’s the same person and notice how he has a helmet on...”

“You’re not saying it’s _that_ helmet, do you?”

“Well, why not?” Hermione put her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying it will turn you invisible or anything, but it could still..!”

She broke off mid-sentence as Harry lifted the cap without hesitation and put it on his head. It felt weird, the metal cold and hard against his skull.

“...Harry?”

“What? It’s not like I’ll break it!”

Hermione’s eyes scanned the area, then turned to look around the rest of the room. “Harry?!”

“’mione? What’s wrong?”

Harry went over to his friend and put his hand on her shoulder and Hermione screamed, ripping herself away and pressing her back against the wall.

“What the..?! Hermione!” Harry tore the hat of and reached out to her again. This time her eyes locked on him and stayed there.

“...Harry...” Her breath was coming out in shallow gasps. “...Harry, it’s for real! It’s seriously for real!”

Noticing that he was only staring at her like she was crazy Hermione snatched the helmet out of his hand and put it on her head. She laughed at the astonishment in his eyes, relishing the fact that he apparently wasn’t able to even hear her. But she could touch him – stretching out an arm and giving him a quick pinch to test the theory – and she could see him.

Still giggling Hermione shuffled away, rushing around the room to end up behind Harry. He was trying to find her, arms outstretched and when she whipped the helmet off and whispered “boo!” in his ear it was Harry’s turn to scream.

“Christ Hermione!” Harry exclaimed as she giggled. This was such an amazing find, potentially the best one in the world. A cap that could actually turn you invisible!

Hermione held the cap up, examining it in the light of her torch. It was a plain thing, nothing but beaten metal and the carvings of wings on top. So plain, but so amazing.

She was interrupted in her musing as Harry suddenly grabbed her arm and then with a swift motion put the helmet back on her head.

“Harry, what..?”

“Shh!” Harry said, still holding on to her hand. “Listen!”

Hermione did and was quickly aware that people were coming in their direction. Who it was was obvious and she also had no doubt as to what had lured them there. Both her and Harry screaming like sirens would have had that effect. She was invisible now… but Harry wasn’t.

“Harry...” She whispered and he turned to look at her. “Wait, how can you see me?”

He blinked, brown furrowing. Then, very slowly, he let go of her hand. His eyes lost the pinpoint focus they had before and then he grabbed her hand again.

“When I hold on to you I can see you. Do you think it’s because I’m also invisible or do you think it breaks something?”

Hermione shook her head and switched the torch off. “I think we’re about to find out.”

They weren’t long in darkness, a bare moment after Hermione turned their torch off the chamber was filled with a different light. Harry squinted as the sharp beam flashed straight across his eyes. Behind they could make out nothing but dark figures.

“It’s clear!” A deep voice said and three men walked into the chamber. Riddle and Snape, of course, along with a mean looking soldier. The three spread out, with two walking on one side of the pedestal and Riddle on the other.

“Strange...” Riddle murmured.

“They were definitively here!” Snape snapped. “No other place possible.”

“Indeed….”

Harry pulled Hermione back against the wall, keeping their backs to it to slowly itch their way out from the chamber. In his belly there was a bubble of excitement. They were invisible… Actually invisible!

But people could still feel them.

“Damn Riddle...” He muttered under his breath when the man passed by and stopped to look at the etchings just behind them. A wrinkle of confusion formed on his face, clearly visible from Harry’s view. Riddle leaned closer and with a bitten down gasp Harry pushed Hermione to get a move on. Through nothing but pure luck Riddle reached out to touch the wall where Harry had just been.

“Huh...” Riddle said, seeming almost disappointed. Then he straightened up. “Well this is definitively the right place. Just look at these carvings, Serverus. But no helmet.” He looked over at Snape and the pair exchanged a glance.

Harry was halfway out the door when something collided with him, sending him crashing on to the floor and loosing his grip on Hermione. Within a split second she was lost from his view and a bare second later his hands had been gripped tight and his face shoved into the hard floor. That was certainly going to make a mess out of his glasses.

“Well, well...” Riddle said, striding over to where Harry laid. “Looks like your luck has run out. But do tell me, where’s your little friend?” His eyes glid past and onto the shadows of the corridor. “I doubt she’d run off and leave you here, now would she?”

Harry really hoped that she had.

“So, don’t be shy miss Granger. Please do join the party.”

From behind Harry’s askew glasses Riddle’s smile looked sinister. “Get away Hermione! If you’re still here, just go! Agh!” Harry stopped abruptly as the man holding him smashed his head against the floor.

“Now, now, Severus… No need to be so rough. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

Harry spat blood, the liquid falling pathetically short. “Last time I checked friends didn’t shoot at each other.”

Riddle smiled down at him. “But it did help with getting us to know one each other, didn’t it? And I know that just like you would never leave miss Granger behind, she’s certainly skulking around here as well. With, I might add, the reason for my visit perched on top of her pretty little head. So, as I’m sure a clever girl like her can figure, it’d be the easiest thing in the world to make a deal.”

This was met with silence and Harry’s wheezed laugh. “Hermione isn’t stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trick. She’s long gone, and all the better!”

“For your sake, Potter, I hope she isn’t.” Snape hissed in his ear before getting off the ground and pulling Harry along.

The sudden change in altitude made Harry’s head swim and he swayed a bit where he stood. Maybe he was hurt worse than expected. It would just be his luck to end up with a concussion.

“Well then...” Riddle said, walking over to stand in front of Harry, reaching out a hand to place his glasses on properly. “If she’s truly gone, then what should we do with you?” He glanced back at the solider. “It’s a shame on your pretty face, but my colleague here, Mr. Dolohov, is a boxer. And he does oh so miss his exercise these days. There aren’t many opportunities, you see, for boxing in this line of work...”

Harry scowled at him. “I can’t very well box with my hands behind my back, can I?”

Riddle’s smile was vicious. “I was thinking more along the lines of getting him a punchbag.”

At that Dolohov laughed and it was just on that side of crazy. It made Harry’s blood run cold.

“No thanks!” Harry squeezed out, voice a bit higher then he would have preferred. “How about you just let me go instead? Seeing as I’m so useless anyway?”

Snape made a disdainful sound behind him and Harry took the opportunity to drive his heel into his foot. As Snape let out a hiss of pain Harry pulled himself out of the man’s grasp, dashing down the corridor. In all honesty he was even surprised that it had worked. He was even more surprised when someone suddenly grabbed his arm, pulling him down the corridor.

Hermione shifted her grip and grabbed his hand instead, making sure that the power of the helmet extended to him as well. Not that it did them much good, there was no place to hide in the corridor and no other path to take.

“Run!” Hermione yelled, breathing hard. She pulled him around a corner just as the first gunshot rang out, the bullet biting the corner they had just passed. Harry sped up, well aware that the helmet would do little good if they got shot.

The twisting corridor seemed to be at their advantage, because in an open space Harry was sure the men would be faster than them. But the sudden turns prevented the others from running at full speed and gave them an advantage.

And then they burst out into the dark chamber, but it wasn’t empty any longer. The rest of the men Riddle had brought with him were middling down there. Their torches enough to cast the room into a blurry light. Hermione slowed down.

“Shit, no time ‘mione!” Harry panted. “Let’s just get up!”

Harry dashed for the stairs and pulled Hermione with him. The stairs would be heavy going, but at least now they could slow down a bit and shake their tail.

Before they could reach the base of the stairs Riddle burst out of the same corridor. He stopped, grey eyes scanning the area, calculating. They stopped at the stairs and moments later he was running towards it.

“Crap...” Harry muttered, wondering whether they should run or not. If Riddle caught up to them he would definitively run straight into them on the narrow platform. So then… running was best, right? “Come on! Just a bit longer!”

Harry rushed up the stairs, feet smacking against every step. Behind them, Riddle laughed.

“Oh, so there you are!”

A loud bang and then Harry screamed as the bullet tore into his shoulder. His hand gripped Hermione’s desperately.

“Oh my god! Harry!”

“Shh...” Harry shook his head, feeling his shoulder pulsate. “Let’s keep moving...” He started walking again, more careful this time. Riddle was stalking the stairs below, his men joining him.

“But Harry, you’re hurt!”

“And it’ll be worse if they catch us! Come on, Hermione!”

Getting up those stairs was pure torture, even if his shoulder miraculously didn’t hurt. But running up a small spiral while chased by men with guns who had no qualms in shooting at a target they couldn't see, with Hermione near panic… Suffice to say Harry had had better days. Luckily none of the other bullets hit their target, and since Riddles’ crew clamped up the stairs like a horde of rhinos they could run without risk of anyone hearing them.

The men guarding the room upstairs had heard the ruckus and Harry and Hermione ran straight into the mercenary guarding the hole, bowling him over. Harry hit with his shoulder first and screamed from the sudden rush of pain through his system. Hermione turned even paler. But they kept going and in the confusion rushed back into the corridor they came from, away from Riddle and his mercenaries.

They didn’t look back, but if they had they would have seen the blood glistening on the ground and the way Riddle’s eyes fell upon the trail.

Harry and Hermione barely made it back to a much collapsed chamber before Harry collapsed, letting go of Hermione to clutch his shoulder. Now it hurt and all strength had drained from his body. He was also fairly certain there was a corpse underneath the rubble he rested on. Hermione fretted around him, pulling his hand away and turning on their torch to better see the wound.

“It’s okay….” She breathed, not remembering that Harry couldn’t hear her. “It’s alright. It looks pretty clean, we just need to bind it, yeah...” Hermione ripped of a piece of her shirt wrapping it and tying it off around his shoulder.

“Well, isn’t this sweet?”

The voice made Hermione startle but Harry barely blinked an eye, carelessly lolling his head to the left. He blinked looking at Riddle and then Hermione was in front of him, grasping his hand.

“You do realise that’s not going to do you much good when Mr. Potter can barely walk, don’t you Miss Granger?” Riddle stepped further into the room, eyes never leaving the spot they had last been seen. “And any attempt to climb that pile of rubble would immediately give you away, anyway. So...” He paused and crouched down, gun steadily aimed. “I have a proposition for you. Give me the helmet and I’ll let you get out of here, scot-free.”

Hermione looked at Harry. His face was pale and there wasn’t much awareness in his eyes. She swallowed and slowly took the hat off.

“How nice to see you again, Miss Granger.”

“If I give you this helmet you will allow us to leave?”

“That’s what I said.” Riddle inclined his head.

“And you won’t come after us after we’re out of here either.” Hermione glared.

Riddle smirked at her. “Well… I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands. If I had been feeling less kind I would have just shot you where you stand.”

Hermione nodded, heart racing. “Sure… but I can still escape you. And take the hat with me.”

The man let out a deep laugh. “Would you now? And what about dear Harry here? Would you leave him behind?”

At Hermione’s flinch Riddle laughed again.

“Here, I’ll tell you what. You give me the hat and I’ll let the both of you get out of here in the same condition you are right now.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “I’ll even let you claim this ruin as your find. The pair of you did, after a fashion, find it. However, should you breathe even a word about me or my men I will make sure those are your last.” A smile. “How does that sound? A deal like that doesn’t come every day.”

The woman paused, thinking it over. It really was a deal too good to be true. Men like Riddle, who shot at two civilians without hesitation, did not offer those kinds of deals when they had the full advantage.

“W-why?” Harry croaked out, almost lying across the rubble now.

Riddle’s eyes snapped to him, the light in them darkening. “Let’s just say I find you amusing… and that perhaps, one day, you would be willing to do me a favour.”

Harry groaned and shook his head. “Not worth it.”

“Here!” Hermione held the helmet out. “Take it. But we won’t ever do you any favour that involves harming others or breaking the law!”

Riddle snatched it from her hands, long fingers caressing the brim. “Good choice, Miss Granger.” He got up and turned to leave. “And of course, I’d never waste a favour by asking something you couldn’t do.”

He turned to leave and then stopped. “Oh, as an apology for injuring Mr Potter I’ll let you know that if you go left at the end of this corridor you’ll be on the path that leads straight back to where we entered. I’ll let my men know you can pass.”

And then he was gone.

“Come on, Harry, can you walk?” Hermione asked, but got no reply. Harry had passed out.

 

Once Hermione had managed to rouse Harry and led him, healthy arm slung around her neck, back to the entrance they arrived to find that there was no trace of Riddle left on the scene. Hermione could barely believe it, fifty men didn’t just disappear like that. But clearly Riddle ruled with an iron fists and miracles could happen.

Now if they could only get another miracle to help them out of that pit – Hermione looked at the cave in and at Harry walking weakly next to her – she could call it a day. But she knew that was too much to ask for and tried pulling and prodding Harry up the incline. With the uneven ground and pebbles that rushed down it was not a success.

“Oh god, Harry, what are we going to do?!”

“Hello..?”

The voice, unsure and distant snapped Hermione out of it.

“Hello!” She yelled, helping Harry to the ground before fighting her way up the hill. “HELP!”

That was the first and only time Hermione had been relieved to see Draco Malfoy’s face.

“Shit Granger, what happened?!” Malfoy stared down the hole, eyes wide and scared.

“You need to help us up, Malfoy, Harry’s wounded.”

The blonde shook his head and then turned around, standing up straight and waving his arms. “Hey, I found them! They’re here!”

After that it was a blur. Hermione remembered seeing the rest of their expedition and remembered them climbing down to get Harry up. She remembered telling them a wild story of being shot at in the forest – by a mistaken hunter, Hermione said remembering Riddle’s deal – and that they ran, only to have the ground collapse beneath them.

Then there was nothing but a hurried return to get Harry to a hospital and her frenzied worry for her friend. But the bullet had cut cleanly and the doctors were able to help.

Later, when she and Harry returned to England it was to the fame of being the young _female_ archaeologist who found a hidden temple. She was cordially invited to be a member of the British Library and urged to make use of their resources.

And in the mail there was a letter.

_Congratulations on your findings, Miss Granger. But remember that truly fortuitous people keep their promises._

 

Harry refused to tell her what his said, but it didn’t take long for him to start finding out everything he could about Tom Riddle.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, a new chapter. Amazing. Back to the present again, starting up where chapter 3 ended. So if you need a refresher that's where to look.  
> Note, this chapter hasn't been betaed, so there is very likely issues in it. Feel free to let me know and I'll do corrections as needed.

Hermione had been, as expected, devastated. Despite the fine mess Harry found himself in – and she had stood by his side during many – this time it seemed to have been too much.

Harry didn’t blame her. He knew, _knew_ just how much she had gone through to gain entrance. Copious studies hadn’t been enough, top of her class in every subject hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been until she had dragged Harry away to Greece for her dissertation – and the subsequent finding and snatching of a secret Athenan temple from under Riddle’s nose – that those pompous bastards finally caved in and deemed her worth of a readers pass. 

“Shit!” He swore, gaining even more attention from onlookers on the street. Some had stood there even since he was thrown out, showing no shame over their interest in the spectacle. Snape, of course, was watching from the building. Gloating. “Hermione!”

He had lost sight of her when she rushed out, the crowded street easily swallowing her up. Harry was short and Hermione even more so, making disappearance a simple task. She was upset, and when she got that upset she never wanted to talk to anyone.

Harry pushed his way through the crowd, following her the best he could. A part of him wanted to give up and go back, to focus on dealing with the bastard. But another, stronger, part refused this. At this moment Hermione was more important than Harry’s anger, especially as that had been what got them into this mess in the first place.

“Hermione!”

Had there always been this much people out on a… Harry frowned, unsure of what day it actually was. He had a tendency to lose track of those things when away and there just hadn’t been any time to settle in and reconnect. But… it was, Thursday, right? There shouldn’t be so much people out during the middle of the day on a Thursday. Why weren’t they all at work?!

Harry stopped, looking around. People in the crowd swore at him for blocking their way. There was no sight of Hermione, but there was a tube entrance just there. Had she gone inside? Harry pushed his way across the stream, earning more curses aimed in his direction.

The subway station was thankfully less busy, but there was no sign of Hermione still. Which made sense, who would just stay in the lobby? Wait, did the tube have a lobby? Whatever, now was not the time.

Harry paused for a moment, trying to get his bearings. Now, if he was Hermione and he was upset, where would he go? Had they not just been banned from it the library would have seemed the obvious choice. But no, it needed to be somewhere she could shut herself in. Her apartment then, except that was far away and she had been upset _now_.

So, then where? Harry’s eyes flashed across the room, scanning for anything useful. His eyes caught on the toilet sign. Of course!

While the state of them were rather filthy, and Hermione had once upon a time said that she wouldn't go in there if it was a matter of life or death, well, this felt almost like it could be even more important. So Harry set off and brazenly knocked on the door.

“Hermione?” There was a gasp from inside the toilet and then silence. “Hermione?”

“Go away!”

Even though the tearful exclamation pulled at Harry’s heart, he was grateful that it was her inside. It would be a terrible faux pas to knock while some stranger was in there doing their business.

“Hermione, come on, please open up. I’m really sorry!”

“I said leave!” She banged on the door back. “I don’t want to see you!”

Harry’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. She sounded serious. He leaned against the door, placing his forehead against it. “I’m truly sorry, alright? But I’ll let you be for now...”

There was no response but a muffled sniffle. Harry pulled back and walked the same way he had come from. Guilt gnawed at his insides and he needed to make things right. For once, he would be the one to help his friend out.

When he got back to the museum Snape had thankfully disappeared. If he had still been there Harry worried that nothing would have stopped him from another fight and that just wouldn’t make things better.

The guard was still there, glaring at Harry from the top of the stairs. He tensed as the adventurer headed up.

“You’re pretty brazen, coming back here so soon.”

Harry tried for a smile which turned out to be more of a grimace. “Hey, yeah, no, I’m sorry, not here for another fight. I just want to… can I talk to the receptionist? You see she banned my friend and while I started a fight she had nothing to do with it. And she’s been fighting so hard to be a member here, you know, nothing makes her happier, and I just really hoped I could make it right. She can’t be banned forever, right?”

Perhaps it was his tale or the guard just found his expression to be pathetic, because he gave a shrug. “You’ll have once chance, alright? And I’ll come with you, so at the first notice of anything untoward I’ll see you out.”

This time Harry did actually manage a proper smile. “Thank you!”

The guard – Oliver Wood, he introduced himself as they walked over – led him through the hall and to the receptionist. She didn’t hide her displeasure at seeing him again.

“Oliver! Why is he back?!”

“I promised he’d get a word with you, Lavender, but I’ll be right here to stop anything from happening.”

“Hmph...” she glared at Harry. “What do you want, then?”

“I wanted to apologise for my earlier behaviour. It was really uncalled for and unjust.” She nodded in agreement to this. “So I’m not here for me, but my friend, she didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, she even tried to stop me. So please, can’t you remove the ban? There is nothing more important to her in the world.”

Lavender frowned. “I don’t know…”

“Please!” Harry pleaded, about to reach over to grab her hand earnestly, but a look from Oliver stopped him mid-motion. He pulled his hand back. “Please, I promise I won’t ever set foot in this building again. But please let her back...”

This time she looked softer. A sad frown graced her face. “I’d like to help you, really… But the ban has already been filed and sent to the manager. So I don’t have any power over this…”

Harry felt like he was going to start crying. They had already sent it to the manager? But it couldn’t have been more than half an hour since it happened!

“But...” Lavender said, looking stricken at his expression. “… I’ll try to get it removed, OK? I’ll ask the manager to overlook it when he’s back. I can’t make any guarantees but...”

“Oh thank you!” Harry gushed, and this time he didn’t notice Oliver’s disapproving look as he reached over and took Lavender’s hand. “Truly, thank you!”

She blushed and Oliver grabbed Harry’s shoulder. “Ahem.”

“Oh, sorry!” Harry quickly let got. “But thanks, again! I’ll leave now, as promised and you won’t have to see me again.”

He waved as Oliver escorted him out, a spring to his steps. Once outside his escort let out a deep sigh.

“Well, good thing that’s over. Now I hope I won’t have to see you here again, alright?”

“No problem!” Harry held out his hand to shake and Oliver took it. “You’re a good man, Oliver, and thank you as well.”

Harry rushed back to the subway station, eager to tell Hermione the good news. But as he got there the stall was open. He figured she must have gone home and made his way over there.

There was no sign of life in Hermione’s apartment and when he knocked no one opened. “Strange...” Harry muttered. She had been pretty upset, though, so perhaps she had gone somewhere to cheer up. He decided to go home for the day and leave her a message.

The route home took him longer than usual, as he was forced to carefully skirt around what he now referred to as the ‘cursed area’. He hadn’t been keeping exact track before, but the area extended further than just down the street and Harry skirted the edge of what felt like an irregular circle. He made a strange sight, taking a step only to walk back as he crossed the line and shivers broke out down his spine.

On the bright side, Harry noticed that the fear wasn’t quite as bad now, in the daylight. It still thrummed beneath his skin when he made the mistake of stepping inside, but he didn’t find himself panicking completely. He’d have to take note of that and let Hermione know, because right now he didn’t know what good it would do him. But ‘all knowledge was good knowledge’, right? Hermione would say so, for sure.

He ended up mapping the entire circumference of the area, mapping it down carefully as he got home. Even if it didn’t make Hermione happier it’d at least help him avoid stumbling across the line by accident.

Once done, Harry called Hermione. No one picked up and he found himself unwilling to leave her a message. She had said that she didn’t want to see him, after all. It seemed likely she had been at home when he went past earlier and just didn’t want to let him in. He shouldn’t bother her. Surely Hermione would get back to him once she was ready.

“Haah...” Harry threw himself on his bed with a sigh. His neck itched and his stomach felt full of lead. “Hermione...” He whispered, feeling something akin to despair spreading from the lump in his stomach. What if he had actually blown it, now?

Harry wasn’t sure how he could ever manage without his best friend. Honestly the number of times she had saved his guts… Or just made him laugh. And what did he do in return..? He was a poor excuse of a friend.

“Come on, Hermione…” he mumbled, taking his glasses off to better burrow down into the bed. “...please call me back…”

As incredulous as it felt to him, it didn’t take long until Harry was asleep. But sleep he did, and deeply enough that he didn’t notice the gentle click of a door unlocking. 

 

Hermione felt the sadness before anything else and the incredible sense of loss as everything she had worked so hard for was taken away from her. Overly dramatic, she would think later, but right there and then it hurt. So when Harry went running after her, in his pure and naive way, Hermione pushed him away, knowing how much it would hurt him.

Even after the crying had subsided and Hermione felt brave enough to come out, she didn’t feel brave enough to see Harry. Afraid of his pain or afraid that she’d be rip open her own wounds, she wasn’t sure.

So instead, Hermione did what she always did when things were hard; she put her mind to work. The place Harry had told her about, the street that had had him running away in terror twice, felt much like any other street to her. No one else seemed to find anything strange, except for perhaps the bushy haired girl with red-rimmed eyes who walked back and forth with a frown on her face.

The store was at one end of it, Harry said. Hermione took a few steps back and a few steps forward, back and forth back and forth. As she crossed the lamppost there was the slightest shiver of a sensation, like a distant feeling on being watched. Her frown deepened and she stepped away, trying to get the sensation again. It was there, but only if she truly focused and tried to feel it. In all honesty it might just as well be her imagination as there were probably more than one person watching her.

But Harry had said… and they had seen too many strange things for Hermione to write it off as his imagination. And with the recent hurt even more so. But they had lived through too much for her to do so. After seeing her best friend offering himself to a mortal enemy – after the barest wave of some spruced up piece of wood to booth – Hermione had agreed that she needed to be more open minded.

She had never wanted to believe in the supernatural – a firm believer in facts and science at heart – but perhaps there was a place for both. Or, as she secretly wanted to believe, whatever magic she had seen wasn’t actually magic, but just technology they couldn’t understand. The last idea made her feel better and more in control. It was just another puzzle to solve.

So, if Harry felt a burst of fear right there and then, well, there certainly had to be something there. Just that she couldn’t feel it, for whatever reason.

But actually, Hermione stopped mid-pace, the difference was obvious, wasn’t it? Harry had never mentioned feeling that way when going to her place before, and the times he had taken that path had been numerous, but now suddenly he was. Hermione on the other hand still felt nothing, or at the least next to nothing. No one else seemed to notice anything.

But there was something new with Harry, something that hadn’t been there before. Hermione lifted her hand and rubbed her neck. That strange mark…

For the first time in many years Hermione had found herself completely flustered and lacking all of the answers. Riddle’s trip had been too abrupt for her to do any research on Yemen and the only thing Dumbledore’s spy had been able to reveal had been ‘El Dorado’. A ridiculous thing for them to believe, in hindsight. Not only had the information come from Pettigrew – and Hermione could still remember bashing the rock over his head – but El Dorado was a city of gold, and if there was one thing Riddle didn’t need then it was gold. They both knew Riddle was hunting for magical artefacts – though they differed in opinion on what kind, where Harry believed Riddle wanted a magical weapon to take over the world, Hermione couldn’t help but believe he was looking for something more subtle. Either way, their lack of knowledge had caused the disaster that was their latest trip. Had they only had more time plan, then perhaps things would have ended up differently.

She shook her head. No point lingering in the past. The past was the past and she needed to focus on solving this mystery. Why would an artefact from Yemen cause Harry to be frightened of this particular patch of London?

Hermione wondered if there were more places like that one. She wondered how large the area was and if it went upwards as well as down. Harry had mentioned he felt it in the subway, so if he felt it that far down, then the feeling had to stretch up as well. She wondered what the point of it was. There had been reasons for all others, of a kind at least. She wondered if anyone else would notice them. Would Riddle?

The thought stopped her in her tracks. Had Harry been there he would surely have said something along the lines of ‘I hope he feels it all the time!’, but that wasn’t what went through her mind. Instead the gear went spinning back and back to what Charlie had said. A king and a curse… Had Riddle, in his greed to get his hands on whatever power that artefact provided, activated a curse? And had Harry been pulled along head first by whatever magical tattoo given to him? She remembered the corpses from the tunnel, dressed in fine clothes and with a mark burned into their skulls. It had seemed like they had all died at the same time, trapped, possibly, in that tunnel.

Hermione shuddered. Whatever Riddle had done she had the feeling that it wouldn’t be solved as easily as things had in the past. If this was going to be solved she needed more information, so much more.

There was one place where she could get the information, but accessing it was going to be much tougher now that they had banned her from the library.

Banned. Her. _Banned her?!_

A sudden fury raced through her, sparked by the unfairness of it all. As she stomped home, certain there was nothing more for her to find there for now, she fed the flames with her logic. They couldn’t withdraw her membership, she hadn’t done anything. There had been no trial – getting the membership was hard but losing it was almost equally so. She was allowed to defend herself in front of the board and justify her case and even if there had been a brief scuffle – and really, it had hardly been more than a couple of minutes and not even in the library but in the lobby – they had no right to just take away her card like that!

Why had she been so meek and just handed it over? It was ridiculous, completely ridiculous! She was going to go over there and give them a piece of her mind, right now!

Or, well… in the morning. Hermione looked around at the darkness of the streets and then down at her watch. It was past nine already, somewhere along the line she had lost the entire day. The sensible thing to do would be to return home for the night and rest. Tomorrow she could go and rightfully demand her membership back. The institution would be keen to keep her, surely. She had contributed more than any other living member right now, and they had no grounds!

In fact, Hermione stopped and turned around, she would go to the library right now. They had no right to keep her out and she wasn’t going to sit around and wait for their council to decide if she was worthy of entrance again. It would take time, too she was sure. Time they didn’t have. Riddle had been quiet so far, but Hermione knew it was only a matter of time. And especially since they had seen Snape earlier that day. Where the favoured henchman was, Riddle was sure to follow.

They had been caught unaware once, and Hermione was determined to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. She steered her steps toward Harry’s apartment. While it was certain she wouldn’t get her membership back that day, the library would be blissfully empty but for a couple of night guards. And Harry had the perfect thing to help her get in and find whatever books she would need.

All was still in Harry’s apartment, and Hermione took care to keep it that way. Ages ago they had both found it necessary to learn how to pick locks, and Hermione now applied her skills to Harry’s front door. It was ridiculously easy to open and she wondered if that might be a potential issue. She shrugged. She would suggest it later, for now her goal was to find the helmet without Harry waking.

She wasn’t too concerned, because it was clear that Harry was sleeping deeply. They had spent enough time crashing in the same room for her to recognize the way he lightly snored when utterly knocked out.

There was only a few places the helmet could be at in Harry’s shoebox of an apartment. Either in one of his cupboards, two of them and overflowing with every piece of kitchenware Harry owned, in the small closet or beneath his bed. She grimaced at the idea that it would be hidden there, Harry was not the most regular cleaner and she knew there were a lot of dirty socks piled up. Amongst other things.

Thankfully she found the helmet in the closet, stuffed behind a suitcase and covered by a camouflage shirt.

“… Why did we decide Harry could keep this..?” Hermione muttered as she extracted it, freezing as she pulled too hard and her hand hit the hangers above. The metal wires clinked together and Harry turned over and then settled again. Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

It wasn’t that waking Harry up would be a bad thing as such. But she still didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to let her anger get out of control and accuse him of destroying her life. Because she knew it wasn’t true.

As silently as she had come, Hermione snuck out and locked the door behind her. Now all she needed to do was to get to the library. She put the helmet on, feeling relieved to be invisible.

Getting into the library proved a harder challenge than she had anticipated. The doors were, of course, locked, but it seemed a new alarm had been installed as well. Hermione didn’t dare try to pick the lock in fear of setting them off. Instead she made her way to the back of the building and found a smaller service entry. It would be alarmed as well, but she was willing to bet that at least one of the guards was a smoker.

Luckily she had only waited for some half hour before the door was opened and an older guard stepped outside to lit up. He didn’t notice when Hermione held the door open a split second longer to enter.

Inside was pure bliss. Hermione felt like a kid let loose in a candy shop, all those books waiting for her to read them and no one around to bother her. She pulled her own reins, reminding herself that she was there on a mission.

Using the card system Hermione soon found her way to the literature covering ancient Yemen. She had also looked for Slytherin, but as expected there didn’t seem to be any listings. The number of books she could find was very limited, and she soon realised that most of them wouldn’t be of any use. Books detailing other towns specifically wasn’t of interest, nor those who clearly focused on a specific myth since none of them was the correct one.

As she browsed the guards passed by several times, but luckily the helmet worked its magic and she didn’t even need to try and hide. It was an amazing artefact, really, and she was glad they had managed to steal it back from Riddle. And even though she had wanted to donate it to the museum Harry’s insistence that they keep it for themselves was proving to have been insightful now.

After an hour of browsing and squinting to read in the dim lightning Hermione conceded that it might be better to return for the night. She packed up the books she had found most useful in her bag and put the others back, trying to ensure that it didn’t look like they were missing. Yemen wasn’t the most popular of subjects, so hopefully no one would notice their absence.

The door outside opened with a key-card and Hermione had to wait again for the smoker guard to arrive before getting out. But after that it was all smooth sailing. A part of her considered if she should go into the burglary business, should architecture fail. She was pretty brilliant at it, all things considered. Even if the hat had done most of the work.

Between the choice of sleeping – which Hermione figured any normal person would have picked – and combing through the books Hermione would always chose the latter. This was far from her first all-nighter and would hardly be the last. But the longer she sat the more uncomfortable she found herself.

It was in the early hours, when Hermione was more or less nodding over the books, that the anxiety really found its way into her brain.

“ _Someone saw you...”_ It whispered, _“They know it was you… you’re never getting your membership back, not now that you stole from them.”_

And wasn’t that true? She may not have broken any rules that morning, but stealing books definitively wasn’t allowed. She’d allowed her emotion to rule her and gone ahead and dug her own grave. Those books had to be handed back, and now! There hadn’t even been anything of value so far, and it seemed likely the rest would be an equal bust. She had screwed things up for herself without even gaining something.

She was getting the books back before anyone noticed.

As she got up, Hermione noticed that the room was wobbling around her. Well, it wasn’t so much the room as it was her legs threatening to give out. With a gasp she threw herself at the phone, dialling Harry’s number and praying he would pick up.

He did so a moment later, voice groggy. “Hello?”

“Harry!” Hermione almost shouted.

“Hermione.” He sounded relieved when he heart it was her. And then worried. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s… it’s fine… just, can you get here, please?”

“Of course!” He was definitively awake now and there was a rustling in the background. “I’ll be there in ten!”

True to his word, Harry arrived even earlier than he had said, panting and sweaty. Hermione belatedly remembered that he would have had to run through the fear-zone to get there. She hadn’t seen him after crossing the area before, but she could tell things were not alright. Even if she didn’t feel anything, the shivery and panicked look Harry was portraying wasn’t right.

She let him inside and made him sit down, suddenly regretting calling him over. Now that he was there she could agree that she had overreacted, panicking over nothing. No one knew that she had been the one to take the books, how could they?

Hermione looked at Harry. He seemed tired, even though she knew he had been asleep since the early night. Still, the whole business was taking a toll on him, she could tell. And honestly, having Tom Riddle of all people mark you would certainly do that to a person.

“Coffee?” Hermione asked, walking out into her kitchen to turn on her kettle.

“Tea would be good.”

She hummed an acknowledgement and set the water to boil.

“Hermione,” Harry said, appearing in the doorway. “Are you okay? When you called earlier you sounded really… worried.”

“Oh, that...” She hesitated. “I’m sorry, I just had a brief sense of panic. It’s nothing, really.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing. What happened?”

The kettle steamed and Hermione lifted it with a sigh, pouring the hot water over her coffee and Harry’s tea. She put the mug into his hands.

“Late last night I went back to the library...” She started, walking back out into her living room. “I was… angry, I guess. I figured I had every right to borrow books. So...” She gestured to the pile. “I used the helmet and snuck inside.”

Harry gaped at her. She expected admonition, or perhaps a lecture of how carelessly she had behaved. It was what she would have done, after all.

“Wicked!” Harry grinned instead, “Man why didn’t you wake me if you were going on an adventure?!”

Hermione sighed and then she giggled. Trust Harry to react with glee.

“Well, if you like you can join another adventure. We still need to return the books, preferably before they notice they are gone.”

Harry grinned around the rim of his cup. “I never thought you’d ask!”

 

It had been one heck of a morning for Harry. Being woken up from the sleep of a century only to have his heart racing with worry as Hermione called, and then to find out that she had been on a mission to _steal_ books from the library. He couldn’t do anything but exclaim in surprise and admiration at the thought of it. Imagine, _Hermione_ stealing books. And not even after being pestered by Harry to do it, but on her own accord.

She had dragged herself out of her sadness so easily and gone and done something about it. It made Harry feel like nothing but a whiner, sitting around and complaining about his issues. Hermione had the right of it; something was bothering him and it was time he did something about it.

First, however, there was an adventure to be had with Hermione. Harry couldn’t help but grin to himself at the thought of it. Even thought it was a simple plan, and with the helmet (Harry had a nagging sensation that it had been stored at his place after the last time, so how did she get it..?) it would be more or less without risk, it felt good to be doing this. That’s what they were all about, after all. Hermione coming up with a plan to thwart Riddle – well, perhaps not this time – and the pair of them executing it to make sure good prevailed, and all that. Sure, things had gone badly last time, but really, it was once. Statistically, it was nothing.

So the plan was this – Harry would don the helmet and carry the books back, stuffing them into the shelf, safe and sound. Hermione had originally wanted to join him, but Harry had firmly vetoed it. Even though it was a rather safe plan, if they caught Hermione sneaking around in there it’d be a lost cause for her. And Harry wasn’t about to let that happen, not after he had put effort into making sure they’d take her back.

As he mentioned it Hermione’s eyes watered. She blinked rapidly to get the moisture away and a moment later she was composed again, thanking him solemnly.

“It’s nothing...” Harry said, feeling himself blush. “What are friends for? Besides… it was kind of my fault.”

“You are right about that,” Hermione sniffed, before smirking at him. “So then, this will be your punishment. Get those books back and I’ll forgive you.”

Harry gave her a quick salute. “I promise to carry out your mission!”

“Good. Now,” Hermione brought them back on track again, “You sneak in through the back-door, the same guard that was there during the night should be there as well now. When he goes out to smoke you just slip through. Then the tricky part – for you, at least. The shelf where I got the books from is in the right wing. You need to find the shelf that’s marked 956, and then look for the proper slots. _Please,_ ” she gave him a hard look, “sort the books, okay? Don’t just put them back wherever.”

“Sure, sure...” Harry said. It was only 6 books, after all.

Hermione didn’t look convinced, but carried on. “It should be about 5 rows down and 3 to the left, but I’m not completely sure. Just make sure you’re fast, it’s early now but the library will open in a couple of hours and we’re still sitting here.”

Harry drained his tea. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

On the road, books packed carefully into a backpack and the helmet in a cloth bag, Hermione looked at Harry and shook her head.

“You’re way to excited about this.”

“And you’re not excited enough! Come on, Hermione, you gotta admit you missed this. The planning and then the perfectly flawless execution of it. Seeing all the pieces fall together perfectly.”

She crooked the corner of her mouth into a smile. “You’re forgetting it never goes according to plan.”

“That’s why you got me!” Harry said with the enthusiasm of someone who just realised it. “You’re good at planning, I’m good at… Improvising. For all those just in case moments.”

Hermione let out a loud laugh in the silent morning. “You’re not wrong about that.”

Their good mood and banter cooled a bit as they neared the library. Harry could feel Hermione’s tension, even though there was no reason for it. The library couldn’t possibly suspect anything and it was a simple plan. Just a straight in and out, no fuss.

Hermione pulled the helmet out and handed it to him. “Remember not to bump into anyone, okay? I mean about half of the people working there are already convinced there are ghosts but...”

“Don’t worry,” Harry said and took the helmet, bringing it up to his head. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”

Hermione sighed as he disappeared from her sight. “Just be back safe. I’ll be waiting in that cafe.”

There was no answer, but she didn’t expect any. After all, that was the point with invisibility.

 

Harry loved to be invisible. It gave him such a sense of rush and of power. It was made even better by the fact that they had stolen the helmet (back) from straight under Riddle’s nose. The git had thought he was so clever when took it from them in the first place, but they had got the last laugh.

Truly, Harry wasn’t so naive as to believe that Riddle couldn’t have got it back after if he had wanted. They hadn’t been able to hide it anywhere in particular and he’d be very surprised if the git didn’t know where they lived. For some reason the warlord hadn’t bothered with getting it back. Not even after Hermione had snuck up on Riddle and his entire army.

The thought made Harry giggle, careless of the sound he made. It didn’t matter anyway, so long as he kept the hat on. He sobered up as he got to the back entrance. The door was shut.

That was the annoying part of this plan. Obviously neither Hermione nor Harry had enough information to know when the guard was going to smoke. So he could arrive right then or Harry might be stuck waiting for hours. He tapped his foot impatiently against the ground. Not only was it maddening, but the longer he had to wait the more dangerous it would become. If the library opened there might be a crowd.

Harry choked back a laughter, forgetting momentarily about wearing the hat. Hah. Crowded. In the British Library. Sometimes he did crack himself up.

That was the last laugh he had for a while. Time slowly dragged on as he waited on the steps for any signs of the guard. Nothing was happening, there was nothing to watch but the slowly rising sun. While he had a beautiful view, watching London being lit up, it wasn’t exactly stimulating. The books were heavy in the backpack and Harry wanted to take it off.

It was two hours later, in Harry’s approximation, that something finally happened. A clack and the door opened. He barely had the time to throw himself at the opening, bumping the door up a notch with his hip as he did so.

“Huh..?” The guard said, pausing mid-stride. He eyed the door suspiciously, grabbing hold and stopping it from closing. “Nothing…” He shook his head and shrugged, letting the door go.

Through the slowly closing gap Harry watched as he walked down the steps and away. So not smoking, then. He let out the breath he had been holding. Leave it to him to do something suspicious the first chance he got.

Harry made his way deeper into the library, squinting at the signs to try and find the correct shelf. 957, was it? Or 958? 956?

Oh well, it didn’t matter. They ought to be close, right? So he could see which seemed most likely.

The inside of the library smelled musty and there was so much dust. Didn’t they ever clean the place? Harry wondered as he sneezed his way onwards.

There was a couple of guards walking around inside, but they were all far away from Harry and no worries. Even if he imagined that his path was creating a storm-cloud of dust as he went along. Damn library. Harry couldn’t for his life figure out what Hermione loved about it.

He walked along what felt like endless shelves until he finally came upon something that seemed promising. “958...” he mumbled, “central Asia...” Not quite it, Harry was certain. So then… the next shelf over read 957 and Siberia. And then 956, Middle East. That had to be it. Actually, he was almost certain Hermione had said 956. For sure.

There was a couple of places where it looked like a book might be missing from. Harry took the backpack off and pulled out a book. Should he try to sort them..? Nah, too much bother. Without looking at the title he stuffed it into the first place, doing the same with the next one and the next.

The sudden sound of feet stopped his haphazard actions and he peered around the shelf. It would be a guard, most likely. It was not a guard. Not unless Riddle had changed his professions very quickly. A man could always dream.

Harry paused, then did a double-take. Fuck, Riddle was walking in his direction with very determined steps. He didn’t know, right? How the hell would he know?

Harry shook his head and took a deep breath. No. Of course he didn’t know, Harry was invisible. Not even Riddle would be able to notice him. The warlord was obviously here for some other reason, like research. Harry was pretty certain the man would do his own research, the control freak that he was.

He grabbed the bag and began to back away. There was only one book left now, he could just leave it there and… Or, a smirk spread across his face, or he could play Riddle a little prank. Get even, if only a little bit. Hermione had said there was tales of ghosts inhabiting the library.

Laughing, Harry changed his grip on the book and put the backpack on. Finally a useful thing to do with these books.

 

The first book flew past Riddle’s head with barely an inch to spare. Harry got the satisfaction of seeing him flinch. Not even Riddle’s mask of indifference could stand against the sudden appearance of a book flashing past. The expression soon changed to anger as he glared down the aisle, seeing nothing.

Harry pulled out a book on random and threw it too, this time aiming to hit. As the book suddenly appeared out of thin air, speeding toward him, Riddle threw himself backwards. The book missed and Harry booed. He’d have to do better next time.

Not giving Riddle any time to recover Harry pulled and threw another book and then another after that. The warlord dodged them by stepping behind the shelf, letting it take the blunt damage.

“Stop hiding, you creep...” Harry hissed, arming himself with more books as he headed around the corner.

Riddle was huddling just around the bend, hunched down and almost making Harry trip over him. He was looking through Harry and back the way he’d come from.

“Man, this is like taking candy from a baby...” Harry muttered to himself and raised his hand, dangling the book between his fingers. “Ready or not, Riddle...” He dropped the book and watched in satisfaction as it impacted with Riddle’s shoulder. He enjoyed the expected wince as it hit.

What Harry didn’t anticipate was the sudden tackle, taking him out at the knees and sending him tumbling to the floor, Riddle on top. The hat flew off, bouncing away down the stone corridor.

“Bad boy, Harry...” The man hissed, a hand wrapped around Harry’s throat. “I thought you knew better than to hurl books at people.”

“I do know. But you’re not people, you’re an asshol...gggk!” Harry replied, sentence grumbled as Riddle suddenly tightened his hand.

“You’re lucky I have plans for you that do not include your death.” Riddle said, ignoring Harry’s flailing hands as he squeezed harder for a second before letting go, trailing his hand down Harry’s chest.

“You… cough.. fucking psycho!” Harry growled, panting to get his breath back.

“Really don’t think you have the moral high ground right now, darling. Or the high ground at all… I could get used to this sight.”

“What, of me being half beaten to death?!”

“No. Of you beneath me, panting for breath… If you like I’d be happy to asphyxiate you then too…”

“You’re crazy! Get of me!”

Riddle didn’t respond but leaned down to nose at Harry’s throat, inhaling deeply. He sucked Harry’s earlobe into his mouth. Harry shivered, and shook his head to dislodge the man.

“What are you even doing down here?”

“Looking for you, of course...” Riddle breathed into his ear.

"For me? How the hell did you know I was here? No, scratch that, what do even you want from me?!"

"What I want? I want You. I want you to take responsibility for breaking my focus, for nestling into my head! You and that damned woman for breaking the staff." He shifted so his nose was touching Harry's cheek. "I want you to give in to what you're really feeling." Tom breathed deeply. "Give yourself to me, Harry."

In his minds eye Harry's eyes opened from bleary confusion and he saw the staff of Aphrodite break, the fragile wood shattering into dust. Raining down on Tom, inhaled with his start of surprise.

"Shit." Harry said.

Riddle surprised him with the low laughter slipping out, breath tickling him. "Shit, indeed. "

"But if that's the case, then we can reverse it! We get Hermione to help, she'll find a way!"

“Nah,” Riddle answered, tone lazy. “There’s no cure, I’ve checked. Besides,” he was basically purring now and that had Harry worried and aroused, feelings that caused chaos in his mind, “there is no need. I’ve already got what I wanted.”

His hand reached up to Harry’s neck and caressed the mark there, sending shivers down Harry’s spine. That felt good. Too good. Harry swallowed the moan that wanted to escape and focused on pushing Riddle away.

“Even so! This isn’t you speaking, this is the staff! You’ve been cursed by it!”

“Maybe,” Riddle spoke against his throat now, lips nipping softly. He wouldn’t budge as Harry pushed. “But who’s to say this wouldn’t always have been the outcome? There was always _something_ about you...”

He stopped speaking to focus more closely on Harry’s throat, nipping and licking his way as if he wanted to caress every part of Harry’s body. With the new revelation, the brunette wouldn’t be surprised if that was his goal.

“Stop it!” Harry said and put more force behind his arms. To his surprise Riddle was pushed back, but he didn’t seem as displeased as Harry would have expected.

“I do enjoy the way you struggle,” he hissed, eyes lidded. “but there are things to do and this _really_ isn’t the place... So I’ll let you be for now. Just let me get something for the road...”

Harry should have expected the lunge and the way Tom’s warm lips pressed against his, Tom taking advantage of his surprise to slip his tongue in. He was a good kisser, even if the kiss was domineering.

It ended before Harry had the time to fight back, and he let out a groan of disappointment. Riddle licked his lips and smirked at him.

“Don’t worry… The next time I promise you’ll get to taste as much as you’d like.”

And then he was up and walking briskly down the corridor. He stopped to pick something up and Harry had barely time to catch the hat as it came flying at him.

“Don’t lose that. I might need it back one day.”

Harry sank back to the floor. “Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not my favourite chapter, but oh well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally hoping to have this out in May but it turned out to be a busy month. But here it is, finally. And you can look forward to getting some answers ;)

The following days Harry was, to put it simply, upset. Mad at how he had allowed Riddle to get the jump on him, mad that he had been so _stupid_ as to attack. He didn’t know what had possessed him that day. Had he just remained still he could have just snuck out, Riddle being none the wiser. And really, expecting the man to believe it was a ghost? Riddle knew about the helmet, so had Harry used his brain a little he would have known that the warlord would figure it out. As much as Harry may detest him, he had to admit that the other wasn’t stupid.

And Hermione had been upset as well. She’d already been fretting over the time it had taken – most of it had been Harry waiting for the door to open, but still – and then having Harry appear, pale and flustered, almost pulling her out of the cafe in his hurry to get away… well, for a moment Harry almost believed he’d caused his friend a nervous breakdown.

But really, if anyone should have one, it ought to be him. He hadn’t actually seen Riddle since that day, but he feared for when the time would come that Riddle deigned to pay him another visit. Additionally, the fear-spot was growing, noticeably. In fact, it was getting freakishly close to his apartment and Harry wasn’t sure where he would go if it reached it. There was no way he could keep living there in that case. It had already stretched so the furthest edge reached Hermione’s place, and whenever Harry was there the fear felt like a nagging sensation at the back of his head. Or to be precise, Harry believed that he had located the source to the back of his neck. The mark was always hurting a bit in the vicinity. He didn’t let Hermione stay there more than she had to, even if she didn’t feel it.

The good news was that Hermione’s library membership had been reinstated. The pass had been returned by post and Harry had been delighted that his little scheme had worked until he saw the note that followed. _“Consider this a gift.”_ Harry would recognise that handwriting everywhere. He tore the paper into tiny pieces and threw them out the window. Fucking Riddle.

The bad news was that despite Hermione throwing herself into research day after day – Harry being unable to help her both because he didn’t have the patience for it and because of the foul look he received from Lavender, clearly reminding him that he had promised not to set foot inside again – she still hadn’t found anything substantial. Wherever Riddle had found his information from the start, it was becoming more and more likely that it hadn’t been the library.

That wasn’t to say Hermione hadn’t found anything – it was _Hermione,_ after all – what she had found was simple myth surrounding Slytherin. Slytherin had been an ancient king, ruling over a kingdom with the same name. Only a right git would name his kingdom after himself, if you asked Harry. The kingdom had been flourishing, and as things were wont to happen, had been constantly at war. The neighbouring countries sought to gain their wealth for themselves and were relentless. The king swore he would keep their kingdom safe forever and gathered the greatest magicians to create a medicine which would extend his life. He trusted no one else to be able rule the kingdom, the pompous arse. Surprisingly, the magicians succeeded and the king became immortal. But that was only where the troubles started.

Using his newfound immortality Slytherin became unbeatable, and he slowly but surely conquered the other kingdoms. But there was a price and the king soon became paranoid, accusing all of trying to betray him. And so he commanded his magicians to provide him with the power to compel his subjects and to ensure their loyalty would be with him and only him. Once again, they succeeded and the king ran his country with an iron fist. The previously flourishing country was still rich, but no one much liked living there anymore. People who publicly opposed the king or even complained about the changes disappeared.

But then something happened. Rumours of a beast began to spread and one by one, the king’s most loyal started to disappear. Fear was spreading through the kingdom, worst in the capital but spreading slowly through the country. The king summoned his magicians but they were unable to find the cause of the fear, unable to stop it as it slowly turned to terror. And at the peak of it all, the king and the capital of Slytherin disappeared as if it had never existed. The fear disappeared and the kingdom was destroyed and forgotten. 

Well, Harry mused, forgotten until Riddle had come along and dragged it out into the open again. And it had brought the fear with it, Harry was certain. Had he not experienced the sensation himself he would have been sure that the fear had been a general term for the populations unrest, but after the fear-spot… well, he was certain it was an actual thing. A curse, Hermione claimed. Freaking hell.

So far Hermione still hadn’t been able to experience the same feelings of fear as Harry did, though he hadn’t allowed her to wander too far inside. Even when standing outside the border the mere sight of the area made him shiver uneasily. She had mentioned that it felt a bit odd in there, and Harry thought that she was always just a bit on edge when coming back out, but that could just be him projecting.

Despite his own fear and unrest, the fear-spot kept drawing him back, again and again. Every day Harry would find himself standing at the border and staring inside, convinced that if he just looked hard enough he’d be able to see _something_. Perhaps that beast the books had talked about. With glowing red eyes and jaws ready to tear him open.

Harry stared at the people coming out from the area, watched transfixed as those entering crossed the border. Was there any changes to their expressions, tiny twitches of fear? Did they stiffen as they crossed and quicken their steps? Harry thought they did, at least some of them. Some, he was sure, became more boisterous, their loud voices and mean laughter booming out of the area. It felt strange that any noise should be able to exist in there, that there should be any noise but the loud thump of your own heart. It needed to be silent, so you could hear the beast sneaking up on you and be ready to defend yourself.

As it were, Harry was too focused on the area to pay much attention to people when they left it. So when a trio of men, all loud and boisterous inside, passed him by Harry wasn’t prepared for the shoulder which slammed into him, making him stumble and almost fall to the ground.

“Hey!” He yelled, attention for the first time snatched to something other than the spot. “What the hell?”

The perpetrator, who quite dwarfed Harry in both bulk and height, spun around and glared at him. If Harry was being honest, he wouldn’t normally have pegged him for the aggressive sort, dressed neatly in slacks and a polo-shirt. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on his outfit and his loafers seemed to have been brushed that very morning. But the expression on the man’s face said otherwise.

“Don’t stand in my way then, you little shit!” The man spat, face twisted with fury. Uncalled for, Harry would say, considering he had done nothing wrong.

“Maybe you should watch were you’re going instead!” A part of Harry knew that this was stupid and that antagonizing would lead him nowhere. But a greater part of him was just tired of getting nothing but spite, especially when he had done nothing but stand there.

The man lashed out, fists flying and grabbing the front of Harry’s shirt. Besides him, his two companions drew up, not quite as bulky but fury clear in their faces. Harry grabbed his fists, twisting to make him let go. The man growled.

“What the hell?!” Harry swore. “Let go of me!”

The man did, but only to lift one fist and smash it against the side of Harry’s face. The impact made his head snap back and for a moment Harry found himself too dizzy to respond. Blearily he noticed the man readying himself for another punch and heard the encouraging growls from the man’s friends. It pissed him off.

Harry hadn’t been able to mess with Riddle for so long without being able to defend himself and before the man could hit him again he got close, kicking out with his knee and slamming it into the man’s crotch. The resulting groan was satisfactory, yet the man didn’t let go of him. That was a bit of a problem as his two friends began to advance on Harry, who found himself trapped in place.

If he was being honest, a straight up fist-fight had never been his strong suite, and especially not against more than one enemy. He rather preferred to take them by surprise or at least be able to use his speed to run circles around them. Without that being an option, Harry was a bit concerned. But, oh well. He ground his teeth and got ready. Beggars could really not be choosers.

As the first fist flew toward him Harry ducked, pleased when it made the man stumble and he could place his own fist against the man’s ribs. Unfortunately, this left him wide open as the last of the trio attacked from the other side. Harry just had the time to see the fist flying toward him before the inevitable impact.

…Which did not come. Harry blinked open the eyes he had shut only to see the man’s fist stopped by another’s hand. Neither of his assailant were moving to attack now, staring instead at the man behind Harry and starting to slowly back away.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at the greasy black hair and the most displeased face. Great, Snape. What made the men back off wasn’t the foul expression – though Harry was certain it had stopped death in its tracks once or twice – but the shining piece of metal he was holding in his other hand. A gun. Why the hell was he waving a gun around, completely openly, on the streets of London? Harry would have expected him to be more subtle than that.

But it did do the trick, Harry supposed. The men backed away, and at a gesture from Snape grabbed hold of their still whimpering friend and stumbled away.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” Harry hissed as Snape calmly placed the gun back in its holster. There were people, not that many but enough to be called a small crowd, staring at them in uneasy silence.

“A thank you would have sufficed,” Snape sneered at him, before drawing something else out of his pocked. He held it up and raised his voice. “Police business, I suggest you get a move on.” The badge glinted in the light and people shuffled away.

Harry stared at the badge. It looked real. “Christ, so pretending to be an officer of the law can be added to your crimes now, huh? Is there no limit to how low you will sink?”

Snape quirked an eyebrow at him. “Who says I’m pretending?”

“Oh please, as if you’d actually work for the police!”

The greasy man shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what you think, Potter.”

“Well, I think it would when I bring this to the real police and have them arrest you. I have witnesses now, you know?” he waved a hand to encompass the streets where the crowd had been. “I wonder how Riddle would feel when you’re put in jail, huh?”

“You might as well give up this nonsense, Potter. Both you and I know it’s not going to happen.”

“Yes, because your dearest boss will get you out.” Harry spat on the ground, wincing as he noted some blood in his spit. It wasn’t a lot, but he had probably cut himself when taking that first hit. “Speaking of which, why are you here and not prancing around the feet of your master? Did you rise from the grave Greyback put you in only to haunt me?!”

S nape sighed. “I’m here because someone has to make sure you don’t get your worthless hide in trouble.” He paused. “I couldn’t care less but for some reason others do.”

“Are you for real!?” Harry spat again, anger rising. “Fucking Riddle!” He couldn’t believe the audacity of the man. Who the hell did he think he was, having his little undead pet following him around?! “Like I can’t handle myself!”

“I’d say it was a good call. My Lord would be most displeased to see you bleeding out on a side-walk.” Said in a lazy drawl.

“Hey!” Harry twirled and grabbed Snape’s lapels, reminiscent of what had happened in the library. He let go almost as soon as he had done it. “I was managing just fine on my own, thanks a lot!”

“Were you now? From where I was standing it looked like you were about to get beat within an inch of your life.”

“Well, that’s were you are wrong then! And how the fuck are you even here?!” He hissed again. “I saw your fucking body..!”

S nape let out a dismissive huff. “Greyback and his peers were never the brightest of the bunch. Tricking them to believe I was dead was simple.” The look he gave Harry clearly said ‘and so are you, for falling for it’.

There was no way of talking to that man. In some ways he was even worse than Riddle. At least with Riddle Harry didn’t need to come face to face with his scorn. No, a voice whispered, when it came to the warlord Harry was met with something quite different.  He pushed the voice away, unwilling to consider it further. 

“Get out of my face, Snape,” Harry said, ignoring the snippy response of “Gladly”, “and stop frickin’ following me.”

“Nothing would have pleased me more.”

“What, Riddle’s got you on a leash for real now? I thought you were the rebel.”

Snape glared at him. “You should be lucky My Lord hasn’t decided to impress upon you the full extent of that mark. I will follow to keep you out of trouble, and if you have any issues with it I suggest you bring it up with him.”

Harry frowned at him.  The full extent of the mark..? He didn’t quite want to meet Riddle again,  especially if there were other aces up his sleeve , but neither did he want to have a greasy bat shadowing his every move. “Maybe I will...”  He turned to walk away, leaving Snape behind. He wasn’t sure if it was better that the man was close so Harry knew he was there, or to be followed at a distance.  Harry shook his head. No! Neither of the options were good, he shouldn’t be followed at all.

Snape’s comment about the mark had thrown him a bit and derailed him from his anger. But it was coming back now and now that he knew Snape was following Harry couldn’t help but notice. Or the man had given up being subtle, seeing as there  no longer  was  any use for it.  But it was  _ annoying _ , to say the least.

Besides, if he approached Riddle somewhere public the man wouldn’t dare to do anything. And it would be amusing to see his shock when Harry was the one to ambush him. Maybe he’d make a scene and embarrass the man. Surely, being the big, bad warlord having a male lover would be most humiliating thing possible? And even if the term lover might be inaccurate – and would stay that way, had Harry any say in it – it didn’t change the fact that Riddle had his eyes on him. A man.

Still… Harry grumbled as he walked, it might be petty, even for him. If Riddle hadn’t lied then he was just as much of a victim as Harry, no matter how callous the other acted about it. He had never asked to get a face full of magical dust making him obsess over Harry. Ugh. He turned and kicked at a nearby trash-can, making an old woman inhale in shock.

“Sorry..!” Things were not going his way. Perhaps meeting Riddle wasn’t such a good idea anyway. Meeting the man never made things better.

Unable to sit still, Harry wandered aimlessly across London until he found that he had walked all the way to Marleybone. The sight of those brick houses made a twinge of regret arise in Harry. He never did take the time to properly apologise to Dumbledore for his behaviour the other night. Things had been taking precedence but he’d still been rude and ungrateful. Without the old man’s help he and Hermione would have never been able to face Riddle so many times and it was ridiculous to blame him for this one mistake. The whole thing had probably been a set-up from the start, either way.

That in mind, Harry set off toward Dumbledore’s apartment. Hermione always insisted that he call in advance – _It’s rude to just drop by, Harry –_ but he was already there, right? And honestly, Dumbledore hadn’t even seemed that upset when he invaded his balcony in the middle of the night. So a social call at a reasonable hour really should be fine.

This time the door to the building was open and Harry gratefully headed inside and up the stairs. Dumbledore opened the door and seemed genuinely pleased at seeing him, eyes twinkling as he smiled.

“Harry dear boy!” He exclaimed, “So nice to see you in the light of day.” Dumbledore chuckled.

Harry let out an embarrassed laugh. “Hello sir. Sorry for dropping by unannounced.”

“Oh, no worries no worries. In my old days I find there is nothing better than unexpected guests. Please, come on in.” He stepped away and held the door open for Harry. “Now, how about some tea?”

Soon enough they were seated in Dumbledore’s living room, a pot of earl grey steaming between them. The seating were the same as Harry’s last visit and the realisation made him feel even more ashamed.

“Sir...” Harry started as Dumbledore stirred sugar into his tea, “about last time… I’m really sorry for my behaviour… it, it was completely uncalled for and rude to you.” He stared down into his tea, unable to look at Dumbledore right then. When he finally looked up, it was to come face to face with the man, smiling softly.

“Water under the bridge, Harry. You had every right to be upset.” Harry shook his head. Upset, maybe, but to act the way he did. He opened his mouth to say so, but was interrupted as Dumbledore continued. “But I’d be glad to hear what happened from your side as well, like you’d normally would.”

Harry winced. Whether intentional or not, that comment stung. Did Dumbledore believe he didn’t trust him any longer?

“Of course!” Harry rushed. “I’ve just… it’s been busy, it’s all...”

Dumbledore smiled at him. “Of course, I imagine there’s a lot to tell...”

So Harry began to tell him about their journey, still leaving out the part about the mark. And he told him about what they had been able to find out and about the fear-spot. And when all was said and done Dumbledore nodded.

“Most peculiar...” He noted. “And you said Hermione doesn’t notice these ‘fear-spots’? Any idea of why that might be?”

Harry looked away and shook his head. “No...” He was a terrible liar, and was certain that the old man knew he was lying. But Dumbledore didn’t press the matter, only leaned back in contemplation.

“I’ll get some feelers out, see what other information can be found… In all honesty I must admit concern about this curse. I do not believe it would be as harmless as it seems. Surely more people are affected by it...”

Harry could only shrug. He excused himself pretty soon after that, uncomfortable with the idea of keeping things from Dumbledore. Not that he believed himself to have succeeded properly, the old man was shrewd, despite his grandfatherly looks. But as long as he didn’t get the details, it was probably fine…

Harry had only walked a short distance away from the house when a gruff voice suddenly spoke next to him.

“It’s ill-advised to keep company with that old man.”

Biting down on the yelp that wanted to escape Harry twirled and found himself face to face with Snape. Up until then he had completely managed to forget about his shadow and the reminder wasn’t exactly welcome. He frowned.

“What’s it to you?! Stop following me already!”

Snape snorted. “Its nothing to _me_ , Potter, but our Lord has a strong dislike of him. As I’m sure you’re aware.”

Harry gaped at him, having stopped completely. People pushed past them on the street, muttering profanities. “… First things first, _our_? Don’t make me out to be one of you bootlickers! And secondly, I don’t give a damn what that bastard thinks, in fact, it might even be better for it! From now on I’m going to be hanging out with my new best friend Dumbledore every day!”

As he spoke the volume of his voice raised until people were staring at them. Harry didn’t notice, too caught up in his indignation.

“Take the advice when it’s given, Potter!” Snape hissed, before staring around them in dismay. He grabbed Harry’s arm to drag him away from the crowd.

Unwilling to follow along Harry tore his arm away and made a dash for it, rushing in the opposite direction of where Snape had pulled him. He could hear the man shouting in the distance, but didn’t look back, instead focusing on not running head-first into anyone. This was his chance to get away from his stalker, and as he was short getting lost in the crowd shouldn’t be too hard.

When Harry was relatively certain that Snape had lost sight of him he ducked into an alley and away from the crowd. While good for hiding, he never had been very good at crowds, feeling slightly claustrophobic as people were everywhere, bumping into him and getting in his way. So it was a relief to get out, even if he didn’t recognise exactly where he was. London was a big place and this wasn’t an area he had spent too much time in.

It didn’t really matter – Harry might say he spent time professionally getting lost, what with all the running around ruins he did. So being ‘lost’ in an existing town didn’t frighten him. He could always ask someone and sooner or later he would run into a subway station.

Taking a deep sigh of relief, Harry headed up the alley. For the first time in a while he felt a semblance of peace, the relief that came from successfully getting himself out of a tricky situation. Ditching Snape was an achievement, the man was a bloodhound. On that note… Harry glanced behind him, making sure that the man really wasn’t following.

It seemed alright, the alley was completely empty behind him. Still, the farther away he could get, the better. Optimally he would have wanted to go home, but it felt the obvious place for Snape to go to find him, because sooner or later he really would have to go home. Harry just intended to make it later.

The alley led way to another alley and to his delight Harry found that if he turned correctly he could avoid any big streets altogether. He found himself almost traipsing as he went along, boosted by the pleasantness of being more or less alone in a town as big as London.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and Harry’s did when he suddenly became aware of the fingers of fear running down his spine. He came to a full stop, heart beating fast as he looked around.

Had the world always been this dark and quiet? All he could hear was the sound of his own breath, coming out in gasps. There was no one else with him down that small street, but still Harry could feel eyes on him, watching his every move.

It took him longer than he wanted to admit to realise that this feeling was familiar and that he must have entered another fear-spot. At least he hoped it was another, and not that his had spread all this way in the span of a day.

Either way, he should turn around and go back the way he came. Get out of this place as fast as possible. But the fear was freezing him into place and now that he had stopped he suddenly found himself unable to get a move on. What if… what if it heard him when he walked. Those gleaming red eyes appearing out of nowhere, coming from behind him to tear his flesh. The beast from the tales.

Harry found himself pressed against the wall, back tight against it. If there was a beast he would… he would face it head on. Even if those fangs could surely tear him apart within a second.

He took a deep breath, eyes darting to the left and right. There was nothing there, no sound, nothing but darkness. Harry wished for his heart to quiet down, so he would better be able to hear whatever came after him.

Harry wasn’t sure how long he stood there just staring. But it was long enough that the sudden sound of steps had him flinching and terror seized his bones and then he was off, dashing in the other direction. There was no stopping to face the beast, and except for the growing fear Harry didn’t realise he was heading deeper inside.

But he was trapped in an alley, and there was only two ways to go and no way he would head towards the sound.

Behind him, there was a muffled sound and then the steps sped up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…!” Harry hissed, throwing himself around a corner. The darkness had thickened even further, to the point where he could barely see where he was going. Nothing but luck and quick reflexes stopped him from crashing head-first into a wall.

The steps kept up with him, always a little bit behind but almost surely gaining. Harry threw himself around yet another corner and found to his horror that the path was blocked. A dead end.

“No..!” He whispered, hands running across the brick-wall and flailing to the sides. Perhaps there was turn to the sides, or a door, or anything. The walls kept going, stubbornly brick all along.

At the opening of the alley the steps had slowed, approaching at a walking speed now. Harry twirled, determined to face his pursuer head-on. He still couldn’t see further than his hand, vision blooming black as he gazed further than that. Winning a fight… hah, it would be impossible. But if he caught the monster off-guard, then maybe…

Harry waited, every sense straining, until the beast was almost upon him before he made a dash for it, sidling next to the left wall to squeeze past it and get away. It amazed him that the beast was smaller than he had imagined, and didn’t fill the entire alleyway up.

“Damn..!”

It also surprised him when the creature swore and when something that felt eerily like a hand managed to catch a hold of his arm.

“No!” Harry yelled, kicking out and flailing his arms to throw the monster off. It would not get him today, absolutely not!

“Be still! Harry!”

It wasn’t until his arms were tucked tight to his sides, held fast in an almost hug that Harry realised this wasn’t a beast but another human.

“Shh...” a deep voice whispered in his ear, “calm down… or you really will bring down the beast on us...”

“Fuck...” Harry swore. “Riddle?!”

“Took you long enough… now be quiet..!” He stopped suddenly as a growl broke through the night. It was deep and made every bone in Harry’s body reverberate. “Too close...”

Even thought the sudden appearance of the warlord had shocked Harry out of his fear it returned now, and he let out a gasp. Riddle covered his mouth and pulled them both back against the wall, making sure to keep quiet and still.

For a moment nothing happened, and then there was movement in the darkness. Harry could see nothing but swirling darkness and a pair of deep red eyes. They were glowing. He hadn’t made them up.

The fear was almost a palpable thing now and if Riddle hadn’t been holding him into place Harry wasn’t sure what he would have done. As it was he almost wanted to break away as one of Riddle’s arms stopped squeezing him tight – too tight, as if he was trying to crush Harry by brute force alone – and reach into his pocket.

Harry was not surprised to see a gun emerge, but the hand holding it was shaking. Riddle pointed it to the beast, as well as he could.

As close as it was, it didn’t seem like the beast had seen them, the darkness moving back and forth as if looking for something. Looking for them. But they were partly hidden from view behind a rainwater pipe and a barrel. Harry didn’t believe it was enough to hide them, but the beast was still looking.

Until Riddle’s shaking hand brought the gun under light – and where was that light coming from, anyway – and caught the attention of the beast.

There was no hesitation as red eyes snapped to them, the darkness rushed toward them and Riddle fired until there were no shots left. Most of them seemed to simply pass the beast by, immaterial shadows taking no harm. But one fell dead centre between the creature’s eyes and it roared, black blood splattering against the pavement.

While Riddle still stood stiff against the wall, pointlessly clicking the trigger, Harry suddenly sprung into action. He broke out of the now loose grip and didn’t even think as he grabbed Riddle’s hand to pull him along. The beast was roaring in pain, darkness amassing to the wound, growing darker and deeper.

Harry ran, harder and faster than he had before even. But now matter where he turned he couldn’t find the way out. He was running out of breath and at any second the beast could recover and turn against them. He had no doubt that whatever damage it had taken it wouldn’t have been enough to damage it permanently.

“This way!”

Suddenly Harry found himself as the one who followed as Riddle took the lead, dashing down a different alley and pulling Harry along. With the new lead it only took a few turns and then they were out, fear draining rapidly. But only the unnatural part of it. His heart was still beating violently as Harry stared down the way they had come, terrified of seeing eyes glaring out at them and waiting for the darkness to gather.

But nothing happened, they were safe. Harry let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“What the hell just happened?”

Riddle looked at him, for once not answering. Harry wanted to believe it was because the man was just as shaken up as he was, but the look in his eye seemed to be more inclined to silently call Harry an idiot. As usual.

“Fine,” Harry growled, annoyed and tense, “why don’t you enlighten me, since you’re keeping all the answers anyway? Despite what you think it’s not exactly easy to know what happens without any knowledge of it!”

“Astute...” Riddle answered and Harry did realise his sentence might not have been the most collected one, but what the hell, they both knew what he meant. “I’d have guessed that your little friend would have found out everything you needed to know by now.”

“Well, she hasn’t! And don’t you give her shit for it, not all of us have had unlimited time to look into this!”

Riddle shrugged. “I suppose I do have access to some materials she doesn’t…” His eyes focused on Harry, a strange gleam to them. “But if you’re curious, why don’t you come with me? I’d be happy to tell you all about Slytherin in a more comfortable setting. Well lit and monster free, cross my heart.”

It was a bad idea, Harry knew. But he didn’t want to stay there for another minute and he didn’t know where the fear-spot started or ended. And he was tired of not knowing why a beast with glowing eyes had been trying to feast on their flesh minutes ago.

“Fine.” He snapped. “Lead the way.”

The smile he got in return was bright enough to make him forget everything else for a minute. Shit, he had forgotten how attractive Riddle could be, when he tried.

\---

“On second thought, I think I’ll take a raincheck.” Harry said as they entered a posh apartment building. The door had been opened by a _footman_ , for Christ sake. Still, there was an uncertainty to his words as the shivers that had started a while ago wouldn’t let up. The street outside was dark, and menacing.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Riddle guided Harry to the elevator, shuffling him in before the brunette could make his escape.

“Uh, no, I’d say it’s never too late. So if you just get out where you’re going, I’ll find my own way out.”

Riddle smirked at him, all teeth. “Oh no, I’d feel bad if I let you go at such an hour. It’s dangerous at this time of night, don’t you know? Anything could be lurking...”

Riddle was standing too close in an elevator that seemed to be built to transfer dozens of people at once. Harry took a step back and the bastard followed, a hand gently reaching out to remove some dust from Harry’s shirt.

Harry swallowed. This… He really hadn’t thought this through. Who willingly follows a predator to their lair? Even if there was dangerous unknowns outside, there was a known danger right there! He wanted to take another step back but thankfully the elevator stopped, doors opening with a chime.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. See you around..?” He attempted to be casual as his hand reached toward the buttons.

“I insist.” Riddle placed his hand firmly at Harry’s lower back and gave him a gentle push. When he didn’t move, the motion became more insistent and Harry found himself stepping out of the elevator.

Opening the door to the apartment was done in a second and then Harry stumbled into the room, a strong hand urging him inside. Unlike his own tiny apartment Riddle had it made, the entry way opening up into a huge living-room with large glass windows. The view would surely be spectacular during the day. Riddle pushed Harry forward toward an expensive leather couch. The room was decorated in mostly white or neutral colours, a minimalistic take where only the necessities seemed to have been added. There was just enough decoration to keep it from looking empty. Riddle must have hired a decorator, because no one actually lived like that.

“Relax, Harry...” the man murmured, as if they hadn’t just escaped out of the jaws of a ravenous beast and Riddle had lured him back to his place with promises of information. _Information_ , really?! Who was he, Hermione? “Would you like something to drink? Earl Grey, perhaps?”

Harry glared at him and Riddle shrugged.

“No, you are right. Perhaps the occasion warrants something stronger.” He headed over to a cabinet and opened the doors to reveal a well-stocked liquor cabinet. “I don’t get much use out of these normally as I abhor drinking alone. But it is good to always have a selection at hand. Do you prefer whiskey or brandy, Harry?”

“How the hell can you be so calm?!” Harry shouted, rising from the couch to get more power to his words. “We just… I just almost got maimed!”

“Hmm,” Riddle mumbled to himself, “whisky, then.” And then, louder. “I don’t understand why you are so upset, dear. You’ve been in worse situations than that. In fact, I’ve placed you in worse situations than that.” He grinned and stepped back with two glasses and pushed one into Harry’s hand.

Harry gripped the glass reflexively and considered hurling it across the room. Straight into the fireplace would probably be good. But Riddle was sipping on his drink and watching him with hawk eyes. The liquid in his glass burned amber in the light.

Harry met Riddle’s eyes, lifted the glass and downed it in one go. The whisky was strong and burned good going down. Riddle’s eyes darkened.

“That’s right!” Harry said, “You have put me in worse situations than that and this situation is all your damned fault as well!” The shivers that had been coursing through him were dying down now, smothered by tendrils of amber. “So tell me, why the hell am I even standing in your freaking apartment?” He squinted. “Why am I?”

“I thought you were hoping for some information.” Riddle took another slow sip from his whiskey.

Shaking his head, Harry put the glass down on the glass table with an audible clack of glass hitting glass. It was a pain to his ears but apparently even worse to Riddle who couldn’t even hide his wince. “Like you would ever tell me anything anyway. I’m leaving, Riddle.”

Getting up made his head spin, and he wondered how strong that whiskey had been. Even so it wouldn’t stop him from leaving, but Harry didn’t even take one step before a strong hand squeezed his shoulder.

“So soon?”

“You’re insane if you think I’ll stay even a moment longer. The more I think about it, the stupider it becomes. You’re not my friend, you’re my enemy!” 

“And you are mine..!” Riddle hissed behind him and then Harry was pulled off his feet and fell back on the couch. Riddle towered above him, gazing down at him with eyes like a predator.

Somehow, Harry was convinced that Riddle’s ‘mine’ meant more than just enemy. He swallowed and regretted whatever had possessed him to follow.

“I’m going to leave now, Riddle.” Harry said, putting as much conviction into the sentence as he possibly could. Perhaps the man would listen to reason, even if Harry didn’t have any experience from it.

Riddle’s hand tightened on his glass and he drained the last of the alcohol. “Is it so horrible to spend even a measly hour with me?” he asked, and somehow he seemed less pompous than usual.

“Are you actually able to ask that seriously?” Harry gazed up with wonder. “If I recall, last time you left with a threat of what would happen!”

“I find it insulting that you consider that a threat, Harry...” Riddle hissed and Harry suddenly found himself straddled. “Did you not enjoy the feel of my lips on yours? Did you not _moan_ in regret as I pulled away? I never left you with a threat, but a promise.”

As he spoke Ridlde let his hands wander, caressing Harry’s face and throat, running down his chest. Harry’s breath caught from the sensation of those silky fingers and the way his mark began to heat.

“It’s torture,” Riddle continued as he stared Harry in the eyes, “not being able to touch you. Do you know how it feels, to have your every thought consumed by the mere idea of _you_?”

Harry couldn’t speak, voice caught in his throat. Riddle closed in on him, let his breath caress his ear.

“I’ve been patient so far, _Harry_ , waiting for you to be ready. But I grow weary of waiting and here you are, so… sensitive to my touch.” His hand slipped beneath Harry’s shirt and his lips found an earlobe, sucking the soft flesh inside, caressing it. Harry gasped, unable to deny how good it felt.

Riddle’s touch left trails of heat behind and Harry felt flushed and aroused. The few flings he had had in the past had been nothing like this, their gentle touches hadn’t rushed through his body like electricity, hadn’t made him feel like a mere touch would put him aflame.

Satisfied that he wasn’t resisting, wasn’t arguing, Riddle kissed his way downwards, following the path his hands had taken. His hands pulled Harry’s shirt up, exposing his chest and nipples to the eager mouth.

“Ah..!” Harry moaned and Riddle’s chuckles vibrated through him.

“Good boy, Harry...” Riddle let the word slip out his lips as he slid down to the floor, hands unbuttoning Harry’s jeans.

The loss of touch and the snap of the button brought Harry back to the present. Between his legs, Riddle was working on his fly and he was gorgeous and had this been years ago Harry wouldn't have minded at all but now…

“No… I can’t..!”

Harry rushed from his seat, bowling Riddle over as he went. He got as far as the door before a heavy weight slammed into him, holding him firm against the door. Riddle pressed his body along his length and Harry couldn’t help but noticed his arousal.

“And we were doing so well, Harry...” He hissed in his ear. “But I don’t think its enough to stop there, do you?”

“Fuck..!” Harry groaned, “Riddle, I can’t! This is… it’s wrong!”

“How could it be wrong when I make you feel so good?” Riddle was at his earlobe again, nibbling at it with soft lips and the occasional flash of teeth. “Don’t you want to feel good..?” His voice was low, seductive.

Harry buckled. “You’re my enemy, Riddle!”

“But I do not have to be.” The man backed away for a second and spun Harry around, keeping him in place with a firm grip on his shoulders. “In fact, I shouldn’t be.” Riddle’s eyes were wide blown now and he was looking slightly unhinged as he stared at Harry. “I can’t be.”

The brunette made a vain attempt at pushing Riddle off. “You know I can’t do this!”

“Would you prefer it if I took your choice away?”

The question stilled Harry mid-motion.

“...What do you mean..?”

“I’ve been lenient with you, Harry. Kinder than necessary because I wanted you to come to me on your own. Wanted you to crave me back. But I don’t have to be.”

A strange sensation flooded Harry, heat filling his veins making him feel disconnected. When he tried to push Riddle away, his hand wouldn’t comply. A slow sense of dread crept through him.

“This mark that I gave you,” Riddle whispered, long fingers tracing the mark on his neck, “was only one of several that king Slytherin had created. It was made for his lovers, to ensure they would never stray and that he could always keep his eye on them. The king, of course, was bound by no such restrictions and happily added more lovers to his harem. But I found it fitting since I am now bound from considering anyone but you.” A pause. “The king wasn’t the kindest of men, and we could say that the lovers he took weren’t always agreeable. So he made sure that he could have whatever he wanted.”

Harry couldn’t move. He couldn’t twitch so much as a finger. Had he been able to move he was pretty certain he would have been shaking.

“So you see… If I wanted to, it wouldn’t even be a question.” To Harry’s relief the sensation disappeared and he had free reign of his body again. “But I want you agreeable, Harry.” Riddle’s stare was piercing. “But I’m not sure how much longer I can be patient.”

Harry swallowed as Riddle, despite his previous words, stepped back. He stalked over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself another glass. Copying Harry’s earlier motion he downed the drink in one go.

Over by the door Harry stared at him. He had never seen Riddle like this, so vulnerable. As their eyes met Riddle snarled.

“You should go now. Or I will consider it consent.”

Pale and shivering, Harry fumbled the lock open and got out. The door didn’t close fast enough for him to hear the shattering of glass from inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and rewrote that final scene more than I like. Feedback is very much appreciated :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys, the response to the last chapter just blew me away! <3 So much that this chapter is out faster than normal (well, also because it's not as long as usual but it was a good place to stop). Enjoy!

When Harry was young, small and innocent and naive, he had hoped for someone to love him unconditionally. He wanted to be the first thing they thought about when they woke up and the last thing before they went to sleep. He had hoped they would dream about him and care for him. When they saw him their eyes would lit up and everyone would know that they loved him, loved _Harry the freak_ more than anything in the world.

In the cold light of day, that didn’t seem so great anymore. Not that Harry would say that Riddle loved him. It felt wrong to call the man’s feelings love. Love was… purer, surely. What Riddle felt seemed more like an obsession and, Harry swallowed, desire. It was dark and not pure. He didn’t think the man could ever be referred to as pure.

Riddle was a killer and a warlord. His hands were soaked in blood and even if he hadn’t personally killed every victim in one way or the other he was responsible. But despite that, Harry felt sympathy. The man had almost raped him, and Harry felt bad for him.

As he walked down a dark street, Harry laughed. What had he ever done to put himself into this situation? Well, except for being exceptionally stupid and deciding to hunt and taunt the man who shot him on their first meeting. What had ever possessed him into doing that? And why hadn’t Hermione stopped him?

He shook his head. No, it wasn’t Hermione’s fault. She knew, better than anyone, that once he set his mind on something there would be no stopping him. So instead she had joined him and practised a whole lot of damage control.

It had been a game, at first. Somehow fun to challenge this dangerous man and to escape and still be alive at the end of it. It was a rush. Harry was nothing if not an adrenaline junkie, that much was clear.

And in the end, hadn’t he been the master of his own destiny?

If he had never dogged Riddle’s footsteps, had never taunted him, never thrown his life in the path of danger he would have been safe now. Riddle would have forgotten all about the brats who almost got away with his helmet and that would have been the end of it. Harry and Hermione would have lived out their lives as expected: Hermione becoming a famous archaeologist (OK, so that part was technically true) and Harry would… well, he’d do some menial work. Work in a warehouse or maybe on a boat, if he got lucky. The idea of a life like that was frightening and maybe, just maybe, that was what had driven him. The desire for something more.

Well, he had something more now.

‘You made your bed.’ The voice in his head sounded suspiciously like his aunt. ‘You shouldn’t strive to be anything but what you are. A freak, a loser. Just like your parents before you.’

Harry shook his head, forcing the voice away. What a time to remember his aunt… and what was the point, anyway? He had long since left their house and he wasn’t about to return there. They were all equally pleased to never speak to each other again and that was the end to it.

But she did have a point. You can’t be anything but what you are, even if Harry hoped that he had become something more than a freak. After all, she had also told him no one would ever want him. And that wasn’t true.

–

Tom stared at the glass scattered across his wooden floor, forcing himself to be still. He hadn’t heard the bell from the elevator yet and if he let himself go he knew that he would rush across the hall and drag Harry back. Once inside, he would never let him go.

But he was stronger than that. Tom breathed deeply, holding his breath until his chest hurt. He wasn’t so weak minded as to give in to that ancient magic. Not more than he wanted to, anyway.

Another breath, and then the sound of a bell and Harry’s feet as he rushed inside. Once the elevator door had closed properly Tom let himself step away, sinking deep into his couch.

He squeezed his hands tight and forced himself to stop o b s e s s i n g. To stop thinking about how soft Harry’s skin had been beneath his hands or how sweet every gasp had been. He didn’t think about his own arousal that had, despite everything, still not died down. 

For a man as smitten with the idea of control as he was, the last couple of weeks had seen him dancing on the edge. Every time he saw that brat’s face his mind became chaotic, wilful. Tom hadn’t gotten as far as he had by giving in to his whims. But the merest sight of Harry and it was like he had just been doused in dust from the staff of Aphrodite. Torturous, obsessive _need_. The desire for the brunette overshadowed everything else and it was driving him insane.

He had, at first, believed that marking Harry would be enough and that it would sate his need to have and have and _have_. It didn’t.

But it helped ease the way his blood boiled at night after yet another day of not having Harry Potter. It eased the way to know that even if he didn’t have him, no one else would, either. No one would touch his soft skin, strip away his clothes to reveal tanned skin and tan lines. See those emerald eyes gaze at him with passion.

Tom groaned and reached down to touch himself over his pants. Even the thought of it was enough to renew his arousal, and he didn’t have the will to stop himself from taking the small pleasure possible. Even if he knew that in the end it would be unsatisfactory.

Undoing the button of his slacks, Tom reached in and grabbed his erection. It didn’t take more than a couple of strokes for it to grow to full size, laying heavy in his hand. But as he stroked himself his hand felt too large and too familiar.

“Fuck..!” He growled, closing his eyes.

In his mind he pictured Harry sitting between his legs, gazing up at him as Harry ran his hand across the length of Tom’s erection. Those eyes would be wide-blown and amazed and his touch would be gentle and hesitant. Harry would be curious as he touched him, as if he himself didn’t share the same equipment and this was all new to him. But bold, all the same. Watching Tom with those eyes.

Slow, gentle, _teasing_. Harry teased him without even being aware of it, until Tom got too impatient and he grabbed Harry’s fist in his, increasing the pace. That small gasp as he did, the feel of his soft hand. The pleasure written on his face.

Tom groaned.

As he came Harry looked up at him, eyes playful. Tom opened his eyes to look back and blinked down at the empty space. The pleasure induced by his ejaculation already faded into nothing. He wanted to smash another glass.

–

Sometime during the early hours of the morning a package had arrived. Nondescript, wrapped in plain light brown paper and no bigger than a book. It was, in fact a book. Or as much a book that you could call a collection of standard papers folded in half. Hermione had almost squealed when she saw it, purely on behalf of it being a book. Harry wondered if it was some sort of illness.

But when they tore open the paper and revealed the plain front Harry felt faint. On the white paper was written: _Because you wanted to know_. Harry knew who sent it, by now even Hermione could recognize that curled script.

“Harry..?” She asked, hesitant. “Why, why would he send you a book?”

Harry took the book from her, opened the cover. The writing inside was different from Riddle’s and on photocopied paper. _The king of Slytherin is a cruel man, desiring only what isn’t his and taking it without a second thought._

“Shit...” He mumbled, closing the book and handing it to Hermione, pushing it into her chest in his anxiety to get rid of them. “Fuck he didn’t really...”

“Harry!” His friend urged, “What’s going on?”

He didn’t reply but made his way over to the couch, letting himself sink into it.

“You’ve been acting so strange since yesterday, getting back in the middle of the night, pale as a ghost. And now this!” She waved the book, simultaneously managing to flip it open. “A book from Riddle, about…! Harry this is about Slytherin! Why would Riddle send you a book about Slytherin?!”

Harry groaned and rested his head against the backrest, rubbing his eyes.

“Because he promised to tell me everything I wanted to know and he never had the time to do so.”

There, short and simple. No excess details, no need to tell his friend about his near-death experience nor about the fact that Riddle wanted to jump his bones and could quite easily do so if he pleased. No need to scare her more than she already was.

She rounded the couch, crowding into his space. “And why did he agree to do that?” Harry wasn’t looking at her but he could feel the intensity of her stare. “What did you promise him in return?”

He waved a hand carelessly. Acting casual was the way to do it. “Nothing.”

“...Harry.”

“Well, just that I join him at his apartments.”

The gasp Hermione let out was probably justified, but Harry felt it was a bit dramatic.

“You did what?!” Her voice had never before reached that high, Harry was sure of it. “Harry, please tell me you didn’t..!”

“Didn’t what?” He paused. “..Oh! No! No, I didn’t.”

“You know no information would be worth that!”

“I know. And I didn’t.”

She backed away and Harry raised his head to look at her. Hermione was biting her lip, looking torn.

“Harry… you’re my best friend and you know you can tell me anything. If..” she swallowed, “If Riddle _raped_ you it’s not your fault, you know. And I swear I’ll hang him by his balls if he’s..!”

Harry startled her with his laugh. “What’d I do to deserve you as a friend?” While Hermione found herself at a rare loss for words Harry got up and wrapped her up in a hug. “Don’t worry, please. Riddle hasn’t done anything like that to me, and I won’t let it happen! You know I’ll never go down without a fight!”

She nodded. “That’s what I’m concerned about.” For a moment they stood in silence. “Please don’t leave me out of this. I’m here to help you, not to be protected.”

He squeezed her tighter for a second. “I… Uh, I got myself into a bit of trouble, before Riddle showed up. Or because of him, I guess. But I wandered into another fear spot and I got so scared I couldn’t get out. And then… then Riddle arrived and I just ran. And then he caught me and we saw… we saw the beast.” Harry forced himself to stop trembling at the memory. “It, I, it nearly had us. But Riddle shot it and somehow we got away? So when he promised me information elsewhere I wasn’t thinking clearly. But it’s okay, nothing happened. He stopped.”

As he said it Harry realised how amazing that was. The Tom Riddle who carelessly killed to get his way had actually stopped himself. He had had Harry right where he wanted him, helpless and in his apartment and he had turned away and let him go. Had even sent the information Harry had been looking for. As if he was a man of his word.

Hermione took a step back and looked at him. She seemed almost as dazed as he was.

“It’s alright, Harry.” She ran her hand gently through his hair. “You did good. And the only thing that has changed is that Riddle is possibly not as much of a bastard as we had thought. That’s good, right?” She attempted a smile.

Harry tried to smile back but felt it rang hollow. But that was alright as well. He backed up and sank down in the couch, Hermione setting herself next to him and for a long time they just sat there, taking comfort in the presence of each other. Eventually, Hermione’s curiosity got the best of her and she fetched the book, reading its contents out loud. As they both expected, it didn’t turn out to be a good-night story. 

 

_The king of Slytherin is a cruel man, desiring only what isn’t his and taking it without a second thought. If he wishes for my daughter – not even for her hand, but as a concubine – he certainly believes he has the right to have her. And this, despite the insistent pleading of my wife and me._

_Of course, while facing the whole village he pretends to agree and graciously bows out. But as I return home late that very night it is to the sight of my wife strewn across the floor, a dagger cruelly jutting out of her chest. My heart is beating loudly in mine as I rush across the house and to my daughter’s room._

_She lays on the bed, likely in the position the king had left her in after he had his way with her, before cruelly cutting her throat. A mockery, a reminder._

_As I fall to the floor the stone is hard beneath my knees and my breathing feels strange. My wife and only child lies dead and all I can think of is the cold seeping into my palms._

_And then. Revenge. The word creeps unbidden into my mind, seeps into every corner of my soul. Of course. Revenge._

 

_But the act itself is not as easy as the thought and there is little I can do against our country’s king. I am but a farmer, weak and alone._

_I try to rally the villagers, my friends and my fellows, but they turn their back on me. And so I go, alone, to the next village, begging for someone to listen. But what is history if not repetition, and it seems only fitting the same thing would repeat there._

Please _, I plead,_ please, _but none is willing to help out. Not even the idea that the same fate could befall them, could befall their daughters is enough to make them waver._

It’s better, _they say,_ It’s better not to anger the king. Or he will come for us next.

_Could I blame them? Could I say I wouldn’t do the same if it meant knowing my family was safe? It is a question without an answer, because now I would be willing to kill, if it meant the king had never got the chance to lay his hand on my sweet daughter._

_That he left her there, broken, bloodied. Casting shame upon the damages already inflicted. In the end all he wanted was to hold her warm body close one time. After that he cared not for her fate. And for that fickle wish he would destroy my family._

_I take back what I previously said. Killing is too simple, too easy. I want the king to suffer like I have suffered. I wish he would know the pain of loosing his love and that he shall have to live with it for long enough that it drives him mad._

_In the villages I stop asking for help and I begin to ask about the king instead. Who does he love, what does he hold dear? And the answer is, again and again, nothing. Nothing but himself._

_As I begin to fear and despair that I will never find his weakness I meet a man, strange as any. He is dressed in a robe and the villagers bow down to him reverently._ _It’s a magician, I learn. A practitioner of the sacred arts, a man who can wield the mystic forces._

_I_ _t is perfect._

_It is hard to talk to the man, surrounded as he is by villagers. And I cannot be sure he would accept my request upon hearing it. Instead I must be subtle and find out what this man would be willing to do and what he could do._

_When he leaves the village I follow, rushing undetected until he stops and calls out for me. He asks me if I wish to learn the noble art of magic and if this is why I have followed him._ _It is a good excuse and I quickly agree. He scans me from head to toe and then nods. I follow as he continues his journey._

_There is magic, he tells me,_ _within some. And I am brimming with it. He would be pleased to have me as his apprentice and hopes that I can save the art from_ _being lost_ _._ _T_ _oo few have more magic than a whisper_ _and could ever hope to be more useful than a hedge magician._

_O_ _ur journey is long, for he doesn’t stay anywhere but travels between villages. Merlin, the people call him and he never lacks for_ _accommodation._ _He teaches me as we walk, of ancient words of power and_ _of_ _plants with magical properties. Once he stops and catches a toad, so suddenly I flinch. In it’s head, he tells me, there is a stone which can cure most poisons._

_I_ _learn quickly, but there is also a book in which only the most powerful spells are contained. It takes a year before I am even allowed a glimpse. I keep patient, certain that my revenge against the king could be found within the tome. I must be patient, for the longer we travel it becomes more obvious that my teacher is a kind man. He would never accept my request,_ _would shudder at the_ _very_ _idea of my revenge._

_I_ _still my tongue and I learn. Faster and faster, until the day we are suddenly approached by a soldier on a horse._ The king, _he says,_ has requested your presence. He is in need of talented magicians.

_We go, appearing ever loyal. Not that I’m not well aware that should we have refused the king would gladly have had his way no matter what. A man who believes he can take and take until nothing is left. A man better suited for jail than the throne._

_When we arrive it is to the gathering of eleven other magicians, all powerful. Although it is plain to see that my teacher is stronger than all of them._

_We are told that the king needs to be made immortal, so he can rule his kingdom forever. This, I cannot allow. Immortality has been sought many a times, yet attaining it has slipped out of everyone’s grasp. The thought is comforting, yet we have no choice in the matter. Working relentlessly, the king impatiently watching our every move, there is a sudden idea, a possibility which might make it happen. To anchor his soul, his very being to a physical object._

_They begin to plan it and I begin to finalize my own plan. It had been growing slowly in my mind as we worked and the idea was finally complete. To have the king live forever was fine, so long as he suffered while doing so._

_In my teacher’s book there was a spell of darkness. Evil, he called it. Yet I could see nothing but the potential uses. A spell which increased the all those things you never wanted to feel. Fear, paranoia, despair… Could the king live forever, trapped in his own terror? It was something I’d be glad to see._

_So we stood in a circle, arms linked to form the bond for magic to rush through us. In the chant no one noticed as I switched the words and infused their spell with one of my own, an adapted version from what was in the book. Wind rushed through the chamber as we chanted and the crown, the object we had chosen, shivered from the power. As we lowered our arms, so did the wind._

_The effect was instantaneous. The king let out a mighty roar and when he looked out at all of us his mind was no longer his own. I fled as madness claimed him, briefly mourning the loss of my teacher. I last saw him reaching out to the king in an attempt to calm._

_Days later the news reached me that all magicians had been slayed, and the town was full of rumours of his insanity. I, on the other hand, felt at peace for the first time._

 

_I had left the town, living far out into the border and content with hearing rumours of the king’s madness. I healed the townsfolk with the herbal recipes I had been taught and felt content._

_As the kingdom sent out another call for magicians to reverse the spell I laughed, for the king himself had made his undoing by killing the only ones strong enough to do so. Left were me and the hedge magicians, barely strong enough to create a potion which would speed up healing. I didn’t fear for my revenge, not when my competition were mere weaklings._

_Yet I felt it as they tampered with the magic and walled my spell away. Driven with anger I travelled to the castle only to realise that their attempts were futile. Even with the spell secluded the damage had already been done and the king was a slave to his own fearful paranoia._

_I stayed a couple of days, enjoying the displays of distrust and suffering the king would exhibit whenever he dared to venture out into the town. I enjoyed listening to the way the people talked when they believed no one was listening – speaking ill of the king was illegal. They wanted him dethroned or killed, a danger to their society. Every decision he had taken after becoming immortal had brought the kingdom down until it was no longer anything but a shade of its former self._

_The people were ripe for revolution. And while I hadn’t wished for the kingdom itself to suffer, it mattered not to me if it happened. After all, no one had reached out their hand to help me when I needed it. They sided with their king, so they too should share his fate._

_I went back, once I had sated my desire for his pain and assured myself that things were still as planned. It was years before I heard anything more and then it was the tale of an insipid girl, in love with the king. A tragically woeful story of a woman doing everything for her beloved._

_I felt sick as I heard the villagers gushing over it. She had done it, they said. She had cured their king. No longer did he shun the advice of the royal court, no longer did he fear anyone coming near him. There would be peace again._

_Or so they said._

_In anger I set of to the capital a third time, determined to make it the last. I stayed there longer this time, longer than I had before as I learnt of what had happened. The girl – concubine – foolishly in love with a loveless king had sought out magicians on her own. And she had begged them to create for her a spell to bind her to her love. Bind her will, her body, her soul. Only then would the king be able to trust her, she believed. I found her a pathetic wretch._

_Yet the king was enamoured with the idea, and he expanded on it, making it so he could mark anyone he chose. Like a puppet, the concubine had become, suitable for a king who’s affections changed at the drop of a hat. Whenever it pleased him to user her, so he would. And so he wished for all of his subjects to become._

_I seethed, and I waited. To destroy the immortality was impossible for me alone, and to destroy the wall those lowly magicians had created would not be possible without touching the king. As I waited, and as I saw the people regain hope in their ruler, I hated. Mired in darkness the solution was suddenly right in front of me._

_The king’s madness, so carefully tucked away, yet not destroyed, beckoned me. The emotion was so compact it was almost alive and striving ever to be one with the king. And so, why shouldn’t it be?_

_I grabbed the madness and tethered it to this world, bringing it from the plane of the mystic into this one. It started out a small thing, pathetically clinging to the spot I had bound it. But I fed it emotion and little by little it began to grow, striving eternally to be closer to the king._

_And oh, how I laughed as one of the king’s marked soldiers wandered into its darkness, only to never reappear again._

 

The tale ended abruptly, leaving nothing but white space. Harry stared at Hermione for a moment before bouncing to his feet in agitation.

“What!? Why, why the hell would he go drag that shit down upon us?!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry asking the important questions ;)


	8. Chapter 8

In Harry’s mind there was only one possible resolution. So for a second time he found himself outside of Riddle’s apartment, Hermione at his side. As backup. Just in case. She would never have let him go by himself and Harry was rather grateful she was joining. He didn’t much feel up to being alone with the warlord again so soon.

The porter let them in without a word and Harry wondered if it was the same man who had opened the door for him last time. Much as he tried, his mind had been too jumbled at the time to take in any details. But he hoped that it was, and that Riddle hadn’t given orders for them to let him in. The idea that they might have a picture with his face on it behind the desk was embarrassing.

The elevator ride left Harry feeling jittery and he couldn’t stop himself from pacing anxiously across the small area.

“Stay still..!” Hermione hissed.

Harry tried but ended up bouncing his back against the wall instead. Hermione just shook her head.

“Sometimes you’re hopeless...”

It was ridiculous, Harry thought, to be so nervous. Hermione was there so he was fine. She would stop Riddle if he tried anything bad. In fact, they didn’t even know if Riddle was home, but it was during the day and Harry was of the firm belief that people like Riddle was most active during the night. And by people like Riddle he meant criminals, full stop.

The elevator stopped and the sound of the chime had Harry pressing himself against the opposite side. His heart was beating fast and for some reason his lips were tingling. Just seeing Riddle’s door across the hall was enough for him to almost feel the ghostly sensations of hands caressing his body. He wished fear was the only thing he was feeling.

Still, a part of Harry thought sourly, was he really going to let himself be reduced to this? A man cowering in an elevator at the mere _memory_ of what had happened? No. That would be giving up, and if there was anything Harry had decided to do it was that he would never give up and let Riddle win.

He squeezed his hands into fists and marched out, closely followed by Hermione. If his palms were sweaty when he banged on the door, well then that was only his concern.

A long moment passed yet nothing happened.

“Maybe he’s actually not here.” Harry said, glancing over at Hermione. She frowned.

“It’s possible… But according to the schedule he used to keep before he could almost certainly always be found at home by midday on a Wednesday. Almost like clockwork.”

“Oh.” That was more than Harry was aware of. “Since when did you figure this out?”

She shook her head. “Of course I would look into it. I figured ‘know your enemy’, since it was obvious you wouldn’t back down. And Dumbledore helped me by assigning a man to keep an eye on the place.”

“Oh.” Harry said again, feeling slightly dumbfounded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would..!”

There was a sound of a heavy bolt being lifted and then the door cracked open enough for Harry to catch sight of Riddle. The man was, as always, smirking at the sight of him. Even worse he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and his hair hung in wet curls. Harry froze.

“Harry...” The man purred, “Always a pleasure…” his eyes shifted to Hermione for a fraction of a second. “I’d invite you to join me in my shower, but I do believe your friend would disagree.” Riddle opened the door completely and stepped back. “But by all means, do come in.”

“Uh… We can… we can come back later...”

“Nonsense. Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

At Hermione’s push, Harry stumbled across the threshold. He had issues with taking his eyes off Riddle and the other man was nearly preening at the attention. There was a drop of water running down Riddle’s chest, glistening in the light. Harry’s eyes tracked its movement as it ran down, until it met the soft edge of the towel. With a force of will that was nearly beyond him, Harry turned his head, walking mechanically to the couch and sitting down. Harry was grateful that it faced the windows.

Still, after Hermione had sat down next to him and Riddle informed them that he’d be right back, Harry couldn’t stop himself from twisting in his seat. Riddle had good legs and he’d bet they led to an even finer arse.

Harry hid his head in his hands to hide the blush.

Even though the previous night had ended in horror Harry hadn’t been able to get the idea of Riddle’s hands out of his mind. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from fantasizing about what would have happened, had he just given in. If Riddle had led him to the bedroom and…!

Harry bit his lip to force himself from getting on that track again. It wasn’t… it hadn’t happened and that was that. No matter how gorgeous Riddle might be there was simply no way Harry could ever be with him. Not a bastard like that.

When Riddle came back he wasn’t exactly what Harry would call ‘properly dressed’, but at least the bathrobe covered most of his skin. Harry adamantly did not watch any other part.

After Riddle had returned and made himself comfortable in the armchair across the table the silence felt suffocating. Riddle was clearly happy with sitting and eyeing Harry like he was a piece of candy and Harry in turn was too busy to trying not to fidget to say anything.

So like always, the duty fell to Hermione. She cleared her throat to get Riddle’s attention, which he gave her, although she could tell it was grudgingly. “I’m pretty sure you know why we’re here.” She didn’t wait for any confirmation before continuing. “That tale you sent us…”

“I’d hardly call it a tale, Miss Granger. If you look back to recent events...”

“That’s exactly it!” Harry shouted, rudely interrupting Riddle mid-sentence. “It’s not a tale, so why the hell would you figure it’d be a good idea to bring that crap back!? We can barely move in this town without bumping into evidence of your stupidity!”

He’d expected Riddle to be mad, but the man seemed more amused than anything. He’d gone back to watching Harry again and this time it felt more like being watched by a cat. Harry grit his teeth in irritation. Why was that man such an arsehole?!

“There certainly are benefits to it that outweighs the minor drawbacks...” Riddle drawled and Harry felt like strangling him.

“ _Minor drawbacks..!_ ” he grit out, blood boiling. “ _Minor..!_ ”

“Well, let’s call it a temporary setback, then, if you are so opposed to the term.”

“Oh, so it’s temporary, is it? You’re going to fix it?” Riddle’s response was a lazy wave of his hand, as if to say ‘of course’. “Okay then, so do tell, what exactly will you be doing?”

For a split second Riddle’s smug face fell, before he opened his mouth again, certainly to spout some bullshit. Harry didn’t give him the opportunity.

“You don’t know. Oh for the love of… you don’t know?!”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “The consequences did not play out quite as expected.” He stated.

So that was it. Harry froze with his mouth half open from incredulity. That was it. Riddle had miscalculated and now he didn’t know how to handle the situation. He would have laughed except there really was nothing for him to laugh about.

“You don’t know.” He said again. “You thought that, what, the curse would just stick to Yemen?” Riddle’s decidedly displeased expression told Harry he had hit his head on the nail. “Fuck.” He shook his head and turned away to stare out at London. Was that why Riddle had helped to hasten their return to London?

“As I said, it’s a temporary setback.” Riddle sounded so calm and collected, careless of the consequences that might take place from this ‘temporary’ happening. “We’re working on it.”

“You’re just lucky this curse doesn’t seem to be affecting unmarked people,” Hermione chimed in, eyes hard.

“Indeed.” Riddle’s tone was clipped. Harry figured he wasn’t used to people questioning him and that he didn’t much like it. Except for, for some reason, when Harry did it. Ugh.

“So instead of dwelling on what cannot be undone,”   
“Cannot or won’t.” Harry muttered, but Riddle continued as if he hadn’t spoken,  
“I suggest Miss Granger here applies her brains to helping out. That was what you were going to suggest anyway, wasn’t it?”

Hermione pinched her lips but nodded. She had every intention to make this thing go away – and if it got the mark off Harry then it was even better – but she loathed the way Riddle made it seem like it was his idea.

“Severus is in the library right now, if you’d like to join him.” Harry had just the time to be thankful that it meant the other man couldn’t be following him around when Riddle continued. “Why don’t you stay here, Harry, and we can learn more about how the mark works?”

His grin was absolutely lecherous and it had Harry up the couch and to the door in less than a second. Hermione had more questions, he knew, but they couldn’t stay there any longer. Harry couldn’t stay there any longer.

“No? Such a shame.” Riddle leaned back in the armchair and crossed his legs, drawing Harry’s eyes to the smooth movement and those strong legs. His mouth went dry.

“C-come on, Hermione,” He had to clear his suddenly dry throat to get the words out. “Let’s go.”

“Do come back anytime, _Harry._ ” Riddle purred.

“Shit, fuck, shit...” Harry murmured as they headed down the elevator. “If I ever get the bright idea to see Riddle again, ‘Mione, whatever you do, _don’t_ let me!” He was facing one of the metal walls, unable to even face her at that moment. Even though she was his best friend and all, he just couldn’t take seeing sympathy, or worse disgust, on her face. Riddle didn’t bring out his good sides.

“It’s okay, Harry,” Hermione said, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder in support. “I’ll make sure that bastard never gets the chance to do anything to you.”

Harry squeezed his eyes and placed his forehead against the wall. A small part of him wasn’t sure he didn’t want Riddle to do anything, but he kept that hidden deep inside. No matter what that’d be sure to bring down her disgust. After all, Harry already hated himself for it.

 

Since Harry couldn’t join Hermione at the library he could do nothing but see her off as she entered the building. And after that he found himself loitering. For a person stuck in the middle of a potential disaster there was surprisingly little he could do when it came down to it. He couldn’t help with research, even if he hadn’t been banned it had never been his strong suite, and there was nothing he could physically fight. He could of course go to a fear-spot and try to learn more about it, but after the last time Harry wanted to keep as far away from them as possible.

And so he took to wandering the streets again, this time on high alert to any changes in his surroundings. The smallest prickle of fear and he’d take a different path. So maybe he could do that, at least. Map out all the fear-spots. Whatever good it would do.

When Harry reconvened with Hermione that night he felt he had traversed most of the city and he had found another place that sent shivers down his spine. Hermione was tired and worn out and informed him that they hadn’t made any progress. While the materials they had was greater than what she had previously found – a large extent due to the fact that Riddle and his men were hogging the books – most of it simply skimmed past the any history connected to Slytherin. It seemed they had a lot of work to do in order to find anything.

By the end of the day after Harry found himself bored and restless. While he normally loved walking through London he was too on edge and wanted to make a difference, not spend his time idling away. For a brief moment he considered if assassinating Riddle was a reasonable choice. The man himself would certainly have done it, had someone else been in his shoes. But Harry wasn’t a killer and he wasn’t about to stoop down to Riddle’s level.

It would have to be solved a different way. If only there was a magician to help them out. But they weren’t exactly common in this day and age. Even the man who cast the curse had said that they were dwindling and that had been hundreds of years ago. Still… Harry doubted he’d be able to find any help in England, but if he…

“Whatcha doing, ickle Potter?” The shrill voice made him jump and the madness in it sent a shiver down his spine.

Harry twisted around and jumped back as he came face to face with Bellatrix, Greyback’s mad dog. Shit, he hadn’t even known that she had survived, didn’t think that any of the bounty hunter’s men had survived. Why was she here? Was she out to get revenge?

“Listen, I’m the wrong person to go to! I didn’t even do anything!”

She tilted her head, the mane of black hair cascading over her right shoulder as she did so. “Done what?”

“You know what.”

“But you didn’t do it?” Her head flipped to the other side.

“That’s right! So why are you here?”

“Because he said so.” The head flipped back.

“Stop that!” Harry shouted, “And who’s he? Why the hell are you here?”

The head turned again. “Because my Lord asked me to.” A brief pause, just long enough for Harry to bring up the question again. “I mean teeeechnically I’m just supposed to keep an eye on you… but you were being no fun, moping around town. So I figured I’d join you and we could go on an adventure!”

“You..!” Harry paused. Greyback couldn’t have asked her to do anything, Harry saw him die. With his own eyes, unlike Snape and his trickery. “Riddle.” A deep sigh. “Show me your neck...”

“Oooh, ickle Potter is so dirty! Why would you want to see my little old neck?” She was prancing around as she spoke, drawing attention from the few people who walked along the street. How Harry had avoided seeing her earlier was a mystery, she wasn’t exactly subtle in those high heels and tight clothes. “But alright, just because my Lord asked me to take care of you.” She tilted her head, _again_ , and pulled her hair up with a hand. The curls moved away to reveal a long and pale neck.

Harry blinked. That neck was most definitively bare of any mark, unlike Harry’s own. He took a step closer, reached out to touch. Bellatrix giggled madly and bounced away.

“Naughty naughty!” She waggled her finger at him and her sleeve slid down to reveal a pale forearm. A forearm that was definitively marked.

“What?” Harry reached out and snatched her arm, pulling it close. The golden brand sat on her skin as if it had always been there. Except for the colour it looked exactly like his own, identical to the mark he had found himself spending hours staring at and brooding. Seeing it on someone else felt surreal.

“Keep touching me like that and I’ll start to think you like me, ickle Potter...” Bellatrix said, her voice suddenly husky. “And while that’s sweet, you’re not the one for me.”

Harry dropped her arm like it was hot.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She slithered closer and bent her head until it was next to Harry’s. “We can’t have that, because then I’d be failing my Lord.” She grabbed Harry’s arm and her sharp nails dug in deep. “And I’m _not_ disappointing my Lord.” Her face was all menace.

A second later she let go and her face split in a wide grin. “Heey, whatcha going to do Potty? Can we go eat somewhere?”

Harry stroked the marks on his arm, staring at her. What was Riddle thinking, was he out of his mind? How could he send the craziest woman alive to ‘look after’ him? As it it wasn’t bad enough to have Snape as his babysitter. He wasn’t having this. No, in fact, he’d barge straight up to Riddle and make it damned clear that he didn’t need..!

Shit. It hadn’t even been a day since he told Hermione, _implored_ her not to let him see Riddle again. And he was about to run straight back into the dragon’s lair. Alone, unless you counted Bellatrix but somehow Harry doubted she’d help him out.

Maybe that was the game. Riddle was smart enough to know that Harry hated the bare idea of being followed around and that he would despise being followed by Bellatrix even more. The woman was unable to sit still and she was unable to be quiet. So he expected Harry to follow his temper and go running to Riddle, demanding he get her to stop.

Only this time Harry knew he wouldn’t leave without Riddle getting what he wanted. There had been a hungry look in his eye that frightened the brunette and a sense of impatience that even Hermione would have noticed. So no, Harry wasn’t going to be fooled and he sure as hell wasn’t going back there.

Nope, no way, not a chance. No matter _how_ nutty Bellatrix was.

“Heey look!” Bellatrix shouted and then she was taking steps in the street, dancing to some imaginary music. If they hadn’t been before, people were definitively staring now. “It’s like this is a ballroom!”

For a second, Harry’s mind blanked and he took a step in the direction of Riddle’s apartment. But no. He was fine, this was nothing.

“Bellatrix,” he said instead, “Are you sure you have to follow me?”

She nodded, not missing a turn from her imaginary dance partner.

Harry sighed, and supposed he’d be doing that quite a lot. “Well then, I why don’t we go eat? Weren’t you hungry?”

She perked up and was at his side immediately. Like a dog, excited for food. Well, he could work with that. Hadn’t he always wanted a dog, after all?

 

As things turned out, while people were willing to forgive and forget a dog’s antics, they were less acceptive of humans. Especially when they howled and threw food that had been, quote, sub-par, beneath what you’d feed a slug feasting on the body of it’s dead sibling.

After that colourful remark they hadn’t been so much thrown as gently nudged out, Harry still with a piece of treacle tart in his mouth that he had forgotten to chew in all the commotion. It had also been made abundantly clear that they were not to come back.

Harry chewed his pie mournfully, trying to savour the flavour for as long as he could. That had been his favourite restaurant that served treacle tart. Now he’d never eat it again. The thought hurt worse than the fact that this was the second establishment in London that he had been told to never set foot in again. At this pace he would be running out of places before the year was up.

“Like we’d want to come back,” Bellatrix said, sneering at the restaurant. Harry had heard that she was related to the politician Walburga Black and when she did that he believed the rumours. So much malice in one sneer. He shuddered. But if Bellatrix had gone into politics instead it would probably have been better, because no one would be crazy enough to vote for her.

Well, as things were he might as well go home. He didn’t feel comfortable doing anything with her hovering above his shoulder and he didn’t participate going anywhere else would give a different result.

She didn’t notice as he started to walk away and Harry dared to have a brief hope that she had forgotten all about it. After all, even if she was loyal to Riddle now the woman was crazy. Greyback had done a number on her for sure. In a way, Harry pitied her.

The feeling disappeared quickly.

“I’m gonna catch you~!”

Harry didn’t even need to turn around to know that Bellatrix was barrelling down the street in pursuit of him. He slowed down to make the chase less appealing for her.

“Gotcha!” She shrieked in his ear as she hugged him from behind.

Great, now he was deaf as well.

Harry ended up going home – Bellatrix tagging along all the way – but then found himself faced with another problem. Even as he set foot in his apartment building the damned woman didn’t seem like she was going to leave, following him closely. When they got up the stairs and to his apartment Harry had to stop, turning around to face her.

“Hey,” he said, fixing her with a firm look. She tilted her head and smiled at him. “I’m going home, so you can consider your duty done, okay?” What Harry really wanted to do was to tell her to get out of his face, but he figured that when dealing with crazy it was probably better to try and be gentle.

Bellatrix shook her head and Harry sighed. He really ought to have expected this. “My Lord was very clear that you are to be watched day and night.”

“But don’t you need to sleep too? I promise I won’t leave my apartment during the night, I’m just going to sleep. And in the morning you can come back and it’ll be like you never left.” Hopefully he’d be able to escape before then. If he rushed away into London there was no way she’d find him again, right?

She shook her head again.

“Oh come on! You know you can’t watch me constantly. How long are you supposed to do it for anyway?”

“Until my Lord tells me otherwise.” It disturbed Harry to hear her be solemn for once and it almost broke his resolve. Almost.

“Fine, wait out here then! I don’t care.”

He turned and unlocked his flat, intent on slipping in and leaving Bellatrix firmly on the other side of the door. But even after taking a step inside there was a force at his back and Bellatrix barrelled her way inside, spotting his bed and jumping on to it like a dog.

“What the hell?!” Harry roared, louder than he should have considering the door was still open and the walls weren’t exactly thick. “No!” He rushed over, grabbing her by the arm and attempting to forcibly pull her off the bed. “Get out of here right now!”

She giggled and pulled he arm the other way. Harry had a brief moment to consider how weak he must be as the force of it sent him flying forwards and landing halfway across her prone body.

She giggled, high-pitched. “Oh my! I didn’t know Potty wanted a hug from Bella that badly!”

Unbalanced Harry didn’t have the opportunity to stop her as she grabbed hold of him and hugged him close, near strangling him.

“Oh so cute!” She rolled back and forth, ecstatic like a puppy. “But you cannot! Bella will hug you now, so Potty better get over it after, okay?!”

Being smashed against her made it hard to breathe, much less answer. Not that the woman needed any reply anyway as she continued to hug him tight. And then with a flourish she suddenly let him go as they were rolled as far to the left as possible and she bounced on to her feet and out of the bed. Harry yelped as the movement dropped him unceremoniously on the floor.

Bellatrix had skipped out into his kitchenette, not even glancing at his fallen form. So much for ‘not taking her eyes off him’. Harry sat up, rubbing his shoulder. That was surely going to bruise.

“Why won’t you get out..?!” Harry moaned to himself, tiredly placing his head in his palms. He knew he should fight her more, but he was too tired. Tired of dealing with all of these selfish bastards. Or well, technically there was only one selfish bastard, but somehow he managed to influence all around him to be equally annoying.

“Do you have any mustard?”

The shout was unexpected and Harry could only stare as he noticed Bellatrix had raided his cupboards and was in the progress of cooking. _Cooking_. It astonished him that she even knew how, and he was even more surprised when she put a plate in his hands and it turned out to be delicious. The smile on her face as he told her was actually… nice. She looked almost sane and the brightness enhanced her beauty. Harry wondered what she had been doing before Greyback got her hands on her. He wondered if she’d have been a nice person.

While they were eating there came a knock on the door and Harry opened it to reveal Hermione. Nothing surprising there, but her face fell as she saw the person keeping him company.

“Uh, Harry,” she said, lowering her tone, “Why is Bellatrix Lestrange here?”

“Riddle’s being an ass.” Harry answered, motioning her inside. “It’s not too bad, but she refuses to leave.”

Hermione walked in slowly, ready to fight or flight at any odd movement from the woman. Bellatrix on her side looked up, dark eyes following Hermione around. She smiled and it reminded Harry of a cat about to pounce.

“Bellatrix,” he said, “don’t be mean to Hermione. She’s my friend.”

The woman burst out laughing, her whole body shaking. When she stopped it was to a dark grin plastered across her face. “Okey-dokey, ickle Potter,” she said, “but only until my Lord says otherwise.”

Hermione swallowed and Harry patted her reassuringly on the back. “It’s not that bad. I don’t think she’ll hurt you.”

“Unless Riddle decides otherwise.”

“Yeah.” This time it was Harry’s turn to swallow. “But he wouldn’t, I don’t think… It’d upset me.”

Hermione shook her head and sat down at the chair Harry had vacated. Harry chose not to comment at the fact that she was so far on the edge that it was doubtful if the chair took any off her actual weight.

Dragging up a box to the table Harry sat down on it and for a moment there was silence around the table. Then Bellatrix shook herself and began to eat again, wolfing down her food as if she hadn’t eaten for days. Harry stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head.

“So,” he asked, “any news?”

Hermione answered to the negative and Harry wasn’t surprised. When Hermione was excited she extruded an almost manic energy, impossible to mistake. They lapsed into silence again.

“So, how’s working with Snape? Horrible, I take it?” Harry let out a tired smile, hoping to cheer them both up with a rant about Riddle’s right hand man.

“Oh.” Hermione seemed thoughtful. “It’s actually, it’s actually not that bad.” She paused at the look on Harry’s face. “I know he’s a total arse but we don’t speak much, only to share potential finds. So silent means bearable.”

“I guess but I don’t know how you can even stand to breathe the same air as him. The way he stares like you’re a bug he’d like to crush beneath his heel.”

Hermione frowned. “I noticed something, actually. It’s only you he gives that look to. What did you do to him?”

“Me?!” Harry chose to pretend his voice didn’t come out as a squeak. “I’ve done nothing to him! I swear the first time I saw him he just began to glare at me out of nowhere. You were there, you should know.”

“Mmm...” She looked thoughtful. “But there must have been something… He’s been almost courteous these last few days.”

“You don’t think...” Harry blanched, cutting himself off. He didn’t even want to imagine a world where Snape was flirting with Hermione. Ugh. The mere idea of that man reproducing. Horrible.

Hermione opened her mouth and Harry knew she wanted him to continue his sentence, too curious for her own good. A voice interrupted her.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Bellatrix was grinning and had leaned closer to both of them, long strands of her hair dragging in what was left of the food on her plate. “About Snapey?”

It made Harry feel a little bit better to know that he wasn’t the only one with a stupid nickname. “A secret?”

Bellatrix giggled, relishing the attention. “Do you want to know?”

Obviously they did. “Yes, tell us!” Harry urged. Any dirt on Snape could be used to his advantage.

Bellatrix looked at both of them and moved even further across the table, motioning them to come closer as if she was worried they would be overheard. As though any secrets she would tell them would be worth gold.

When they were close enough she began to sing loudly. “Snapey and lover, sitting in a tree, k i s s i n g~”. Both Harry and Hermione recoiled from the sudden noise.

“Oh get to the point!” Hermione snapped, unable to handle Bellatrix’s theatrics.

The mad woman ignored her and kept singing the song.

“He likes someone?” Harry asked in surprise. “Who?”

That made Bellatrix laugh so hard that she almost fell out of her chair and all she could do was raise a finger, the nail terrifyingly long and pained a deep purple, and point to Harry.

“Me?!” He was even fine with squeaking this time, because if Bellatrix was suggesting that Snape liked him… Ugh. It was even worse than imagining he liked Hermione. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Hermione sighed and leaned back. “She’s raving mad, Harry. I wouldn’t take her word for it.”

Bellatrix glared at her from beneath her bangs. “It’s true. I saw it. Carried in his pocket, an old, crumpled photo. Of you!” She pointed to Harry again and he really wasn’t enjoying this conversation. “...But with red hair…” She continued, seeming suddenly thoughtful. “And in a dress. Do you wear dresses a lot?”

Harry blinked at her once and then again. Looking like him, but with red hair and in a dress. The only reasonable assumption was that she was talking about his mother.

… That was an area he didn’t want to explore, either. Ugh, how had they even got sucked into this conversation?

“… Anyway,” Harry said after the long silence that followed. “Have you found anything useful?” Had he already asked that?

Hermione complied anyway, probably as grateful as he was for the change of subject. She shook her head. “We’ve combed book after book but the whole time seems to be steeped in mystery. Most books just act like the whole empire was nothing but a myth and gives nothing further on the subject. Honestly, the best material is the statement you got from Riddle, and while it tells us about how it happened, it does nothing to teach us how to _stop_ it. Except for finding a magician, of course. But that’s like hunting for a grain of sand.”

She paused, not noticing Harry’s sudden look of consideration. The wheels were spinning in his mind. Hadn’t he been thinking that very same thing before Bellatrix appeared out of nowhere and scared the shit out of him? Finding a magician that could break the curse… How hard could it be? All he needed to do was to find a needle in a haystack. And that could be quite simple, so long as one had a magnet.

Harry was pretty sure he could be considered a magnet.

Hermione left pretty soon after that, put off by Harry’s sudden contemplative silence and Bellatrix’s loud exclamations. Once she had left Harry turned to the woman and looked at her, making her tilt her head back from where she was sitting on his bed. She grinned.

“You look like you’ve got something fun planned~” She purred, swirling her body around and half-crawling across the floor to get to him. “Tell me, tell me!”

Harry smiled, feeling strangely excited. “You were only asked to keep an eye on me, right?” She nodded. “And that instruction didn’t mean I had to be in England at the time. So, how would you like to go to Yemen?”

Bellatrix grinned. “Can I run through the desert?”

“Oh, I’d certainly expect that. We need to catch their attention, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone miss Bellatrix? :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realised that originally I never named the town Harry and Hermione were in, when they first went to Yemen. I've retrospectivelly updated this to be Al Ghaydah. Oh and also please excuse any potential errors in my descriptions of the country, my only knowledge comes from google.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

They hadn’t even got as far as the borders of Yemen before Harry was regretting it. Regretting _all_ of it.

Due to the currently escalating unrest in Yemen (and consistent with Harry’s luck it was centring around their destination, Al Ghaydah) there had been no way for Harry to find a flight which would take them directly there. Truthfully, even if there had been a flight he doubted they would have been able to afford it. As it was Harry had been forced to use money from his parent’s account – money they had earmarked for his studies and for which he had held out a vain hope to actually use for the intended purpose – and he’d been forced to pawn the necklace he had found in the Slytherin ruins. Pawned it, because the idea to part with it completely hadn’t sat right with him.

The one piece of luck Harry had was that Bellatrix still had loads of family money to spend, and she had been so exited to go on the trip that she had readily contributed for her part. And a bit of Harry’s, honestly.

But that was the only thing that had been lucky. Harry sighed, pushing down on the gas pedal and hoping to get there just a bit faster. Just a bit. Bellatrix was, well, annoying. Infuriating and a bloody handful. Not to mention psychotic. How anyone had decided to keep her around for longer periods of time was a mystery. Bellatrix talked and she ran around. She sang and called him annoying nicknames. She was a bully to everyone around her and she wouldn’t let go of the idea that Harry fancied her. And that, inevitably, always ended up with a lecture on how they could never be, because her Lord would never accept it. Harry could do without the constant reminder of Riddle.

On the other hand she hadn’t been puking her guts out while on the boat from England to the mainland. Not like Hermione would have. So that was good, Harry supposed. But it was a small mercy when they still had hours to drive until the border of Yemen and hours still in Yemen to cross the country.

Furthermore, Bellatrix was the most active road tripper in existence. Even now she was singing, when she should be using the time to sleep. Because she could drive and Harry was making damn sure that they switched shifts so that _he_ could get a bit of rest during the journey. They didn’t exactly have an abundance of money, unless Bellatrix decided to chip in more funds but after her initial excitement the interest to be generous seemed to have diminished, and Harry figured they would cut the costs of travelling by taking as few stops as possible. Bellatrix had been expectedly horrified over the thought of sleeping in the car. When Harry pointed out that he was certain she had slept in worse conditions considering her old profession she had given him a grim smile.

“But then there were never any shortage of supple bodies to rest on.”

Harry did pointedly not ask whether these bodies had been alive or dead at the moment. It wouldn’t surprise him if there had been both, but ignorance is bliss.

It was however becoming clear that Harry might have been a tad hasty in deciding to bring Bellatrix along. And not bringing Hermione with him, instead leaving her a short note to explain his absence. She would never have let him go off on his own if he had told her. Which would have been a good thing. Bellatrix hadn’t seemed so scary when assigned as his guard, and he still wasn’t afraid of her. Not for himself. However there had been that instance on the boat when everyone was in a panic because a man had just disappeared during the night, soundlessly. And Bellatrix had given a performance seeming over the top upset over these news. It was suspicious, but of course she didn’t confess to anything.

She did enjoy telling Harry the tales of her and Greyback. A particularly lovely story had been the one where they had suspected that their bounty was hiding out in a small village in the British countryside. The townsfolk had sworn they had never seen the man. Greyback didn’t believe them so, acting like a pair of rational lunatics, they had systematically arranged for one person to be publicly executed every day until someone talked. No one did, because the man had never been there. They only left when one of their contacts reported that the man was spotted at the opposite side of the country.

Bellatrix’s cackles as she told that part sent shivers down Harry’s spine.

For that reason it might be understandable that Harry wasn’t feeling great about his choice to travel to a land in the midst of what would probably soon be a revolution and with a lady who’s idea of amusement consisted of needless killing.

He tightened his fingers of the wheel. Great going Harry, he told himself, another stroke of brilliance.

Still, it was too late to turn back now. He did actually believe that this would work. Before leaving Harry had got in touch with Viktor Krum, a magician more in theory than in practise, who Harry and Hermione had met during one of their travels. He wouldn’t be any help in actually breaking the curse as his magic was too weak, but he was a great source of information.

As a matter of fact Viktor had heard about the legend of Slytherin, even if he had never seen the diary that Riddle had presented to them. But if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that to have a shot at breaking the curse they ought to go back to Yemen. Different cultures all had slightly different magic and it would be easier for someone who knew it well to do anything about it. And they would be able to go back to the Slytherin ruins to find traces of it, which would enable them to find out even more.

When Harry, grudgingly, told him about his mark and his idea to lure a magician out, Viktor had been in agreement. The mark would likely attract the attention of those with magic skill. He was more doubtful to the idea that it would actually make someone approach them, but Harry kept a positive view. It was ancient magic, surely the mages of the day would be curious. They had to be, or Harry would probably tear his hair out in frustration. It was about time something went his way.

Especially after this trip. So he ground his teeth and promised himself he could could handle some slight discomfort. The rest would resolve itself, provided he kept Bellatrix from going on a killing spree. It shouldn’t be too hard, Riddle had commanded that she wouldn’t let Harry out of her sight, after all. And Harry wouldn’t let her run wild.

 

Compared to the second part of the trip, the first suddenly seemed like a walk in the park. Why had he been complaining, again?

The moment they had crossed the borders to Yemen things had got so much worse. For starters there was a lot more shooting out there and ragged looking people travelling in the opposite direction. War was looming and no one but them were stupid enough to head into it.

“Shit, shit, shit..!” Harry swore, swerving as the car in front of him suddenly began to sway across the road before the wheels left the pavement and it careened down the side of the hill. As they drove past he just caught sight of the driver flailing along the motions, red streaking down the side of his head.

Another blast of gunfire burst through the window of a building they were just passing and Harry turned the wheel violently, sinking down in his seat as he did so. Bellatrix was laughing next to him, leaning out the passenger seat window and waving her gun around aimlessly.

The wheels slid as their car ventured too close to the edge of the road. “Shit!” Harry swore again, grabbing the back of her shirt as he got them properly centred and away from the edge. “Fuck, Bellatrix, you gotta sit down! Don’t hang your head out like a fricking dog!”

“Woof woof!” Bellatrix yelled gleefully and was back out the window a second later, aiming her gun at the house they had just passed. The gun blasted and then a scream, followed by the distinct absence of gunfire.

So, okay, he sort of understood why those crazies bothered to bring her along. That was some terrifying aim.

Harry pulled her back inside again and then stepped on the gas, forcing the car to give as much as it possibly could.

“We’re getting out of here so stay inside the car!”

Bellatrix twisted in her seat and Harry’s hand was halfway across the car before he realised that she wasn’t trying to hang out again, but was instead scratching her back with the gun. He almost choked on his spit.

“Please tell me you put the safety back on!”

She grinned, showing off her large, white teeth. And then she barked again.

Hyped up on adrenaline Harry just shook his head and focused on the road again. “Fine, then shoot yourself for all I care! Just don’t hit me with that thing!”

“Don’t worry, ickle Harrykins,” she answered and Harry rolled his eyes. Two nicknames in the same sentence, what an honour. “I’d never do anything to endanger you.” She tilted her head in contemplation. “I don’t think I actually can.”

If there was something you got from being crazy, it was a rather free view of your own world. Bellatrix seemed to be quite well aware of just what Riddle’s mark could do, and it bothered her not one bit. In fact, she seemed almost glad to have the restrictions.

“Well, keep the killing to a minimum too, okay?” Harry’s heart rate was slowly going back to normal and with it he felt able to think again, beyond the need to fight or flee. They had only been in Yemen for a few hours and already he had been unable to keep Bellatrix from killing someone. Though to be fair they had been shooting at them and at other people without distinction. And Harry wasn’t actually sure if they were dead or not, just that there was a scream and no more shots fired. He could probably write that off as a one-off, necessary evil sort of thing.

Either way he didn’t have the time to dwell on it. It was quiet now, but there was a lot of dust in the distance and the quiet sound of gunfire. Shit. Harry took a deep breath and looked around, hoping for some way to reach their destination without going through that. But off the road there was just so much sand and he didn’t want to risk it. Even if their deposit had clearly been lost already, what-with the holes in the side of the car.

Maybe they could go around it, while still keeping to the city? Most of the fighting seemed to be done in the heavily populated area, so if they were very careful they might be able to sneak around, avoiding going through the thick of it.

Harry stared out at the dunes of sand and decided that they would have to risk the town. Better they potentially lose their car in a place where they could get a hold of an emergency ride if needed. Harry knew how to hotwire a car, and he was certain Bellatrix wouldn’t especially mind it. But it shouldn’t come to that. Not as long as they were careful.

If Harry was being honest he wasn’t completely sure what town laid before them. Somewhere along the lines of getting shot at he had been forced to take a different route and had been going mostly on instinct since then. The place was large, though, perhaps even big enough to be Al Ghaydah, even if he doubted they had been so lucky.

The sign at the start of the city was no help either, something had knocked it over and it had fallen face first into the sandy ground. Harry saw something glint in the windows of the houses nearby and decided to _not_ stop and investigate. No one had shot at them yet and if they just passed by, hoped that no one would. Had he been in their shoes he would have decided that it was better to not draw any unnecessary attention to himself.

It seemed they agreed and they drove past unscathed.

As the houses grew thicker the sound of fighting grew louder. Harry slowed the car down to a creep and took a left on to a smaller road. The place was deserted and quiet. For once even Bellatrix was quiet, staring out her window with watchful eyes.

Harry’s hands were white on the steering wheel and he forced himself to relax. He hadn’t realised – it hadn’t seemed this bad on the news. But whether that was due to things escalating during the days it had taken them to get there or the reporters playing it down was anyone’s guess. Either way it was going to make his mission a bit more complicated. Any sane person would have scattered from the war zone.

Were sorcerers sane? Harry pondered as he drove, lulled into distraction by the calmness around him. They hadn’t seen a person for several long minutes now, and as he carefully turned away at the first notice of danger, he felt himself relax. The person who had written the diary certainly hadn’t seemed mad the way Bellatrix was, but neither had he seemed sane. And then there was Riddle, who might not have been a sorcerer but he was certainly attracted to magic and most probably insane. Harry nodded to himself.

So if sorcerers were insane, then it wouldn’t surprise him if they all stayed put, happily enjoying their plot of land. They probably even had some sort of spell to keep people away. Harry would be very keen to use that himself if he could.

The sudden appearance of several heavily armoured men rushing into the street, combined with Bellatrix’s hiss, had Harry stepping hard on the brakes. As he hadn’t been driving very fast the car slid to a quick halt. The men exchanged smiles and began to approach.

“What are you doing?!” Bellatrix screeched. “Drive!”

“What?” Harry turned away to look at her.

“Drive!”

When Harry didn’t move she threw herself forward, physically pushing his leg down to start the engine. The car started up with a stutter and sped up faster than Harry was comfortable with.

“What are you doing we’re gonna hit them!” He buckled his leg to throw her off, but Bellatrix had thrown her full weight over him and wouldn’t move. “Shit!” Harry threw his hand on the horn and in the ensuing cacophony yelled “Move, move, move!”

There was a slight hesitation from the men before them, but the moment Harry leaned on the horn a person scattered and the rest followed suit. Harry grabbed the wheel, swerving to avoid hitting any of them. On his leg Bellatrix was twitching, and it took him a moment to realise that she was cackling. He only heard the sound once he let go of the horn, the people safely left behind.

“You can get up now,” Harry said and to his surprise she moved. He slowed down and adjusted the gear to stop the car sounding like a howling cat. For a moment, it felt like silence fell amongst them.

It was killed by the sound of a bomb going off somewhere behind them. Harry cursed, half turning in the seat to see the street behind them covered in rubble. It looked to be almost where they had been stopped.

He forced himself to look forwards again, this time determined not to let his guard down.

“This is not good.” He said, more to himself than his companion. “What are we doing here?”

“Saving the world,” Bellatrix answered anyway, looking smug. When he only looked at her she continued. “Come on, ickle Potter, don’t tell me you’re scared.”

He took a deep breath and when he answered it was straight out of the Hermione handbook. “Any sane person would be.”

“But we’re all a little bit mad here, right?” Bellatrix head was tilted so far around Harry felt she had to have broken her neck.

He breathed out and was surprised at the laughter that followed it. “I suppose we are.”

Harry was relieved to find that the rest of the path was calm and almost dull. Their route brought them around the fighting as he had expected and then they were suddenly past it and in areas of complete silence. From there it wasn’t far to find the road out of town, heading further east.

By this point the sun was setting and Harry felt a right wreck. He didn’t think he would be able to drive much further, both due to exhaustion but also because of the lack of light illuminating their path. Asking Bellatrix to drive didn’t seem such a good idea either, and for the exact same reasons. She had been up as long as he had and even if she didn’t act tired, well… it didn’t mean she wasn’t.

Yet the idea of stopping was at this point almost worse. They would be sitting ducks out there and they didn’t know the terrain well enough to figure the chances of being attacked or not.

As Harry debated with himself Bellatrix took it upon herself to make the decision.

“Stop!” She yelled, scaring Harry half to death. As they came to a screeching halt she opened the door on her side and was out in a flash.

“Wait, Bellatrix, where are you going?”

The only answer was his door being opened just as violently.

“Switch!” She grinned, shouting not as loudly any more but enough for Harry to wince. She reached in without waiting for a response and tugged at his arm.

“Wait,” Harry said again, “Listen, I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to drive right now. Ack,” he paused at a particularly vindictive tug, “It’s dark and neither of us have had any sleep.”

“Come on, come on, come on~” Bellatrix sang instead, letting go of his arm and doing a little jig. “Switch, switch, switch, switch~”

“Bella… ah, screw it. Fine.” Harry unbuckled his seatbelt and got out. It felt ridiculously nice to stretch his legs, and the cold night air was refreshing. He stretched, feeling his arms crack.

Bellatrix pushed him aside, almost shoving him into the sand.

“Oh come on...” Harry muttered, but he was too tired to put up a fight. Instead he went around the car, taking the moment to stretch as much as he could. He wouldn’t have minded a bit longer, but after Bellatrix had almost left him behind once he didn’t take the risk. He snuck into the passenger seat and buckled up, pushing a button to get the back to recline. “Do me a favour, yeah?” He glanced at Bellatrix and noticed her look at him. “Don’t crash.”

She laughed and pushed the gas, setting off at a higher speed than Harry had been going.

In all fairness he shouldn’t have been able to fall asleep, yet he did, only moments after taking off. If they passed any more battles he didn’t notice.

When Harry awoke it was to the bright sunshine in his eyes. Things were quiet, suspiciously so. The car was parked in the shadow beneath a tree, a shadow which was slowly being chased back by the rising sun.

“Uh...” Harry groaned and pushed himself away from the door of the car. He had a terrible crick in his neck and took a moment to rub at his shoulder to ease the pain. The drivers seat was empty and as Harry got out and had a look around, Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen. On the other hand, so was nobody else. “Crap, where did she go..?”

The area around him was mostly sand, a few dried up hills and trees littering the landscape. Wherever she had driven there clearly wasn’t a town anywhere nearby. Neither was there a proper road, just a strip of compressed sand and dirt.

“Shit,” Harry said again, just for the heck of it. He opened the trunk of the car and got out a bottle of water, letting the liquid cool his throat. Where was Bellatrix? Had she made a run for it? It seemed unlikely considering her apparent devotion to Riddle, but then again, that was the mark, wasn’t it? Perhaps enough distance let her free herself of his grasp. “Shit!” This time Harry swore because he felt a cold shiver run down his spine at the thought. If Bellatrix wasn’t collared by Riddle’s demands any longer, then she could go rampant at any time. He was pretty sure that she’d happily shoot him to spite Riddle.

She hadn’t done so yet, but that could just be because she liked to play. And if she had a gun, her intent might be to hunt Harry through the desert like a dog chasing a rabbit. He ground his teeth together. No one was going to turn him into a rabbit.

Slamming the trunk closed, Harry scanned the area for any sign of her. There was enough of a breeze that any potential footsteps had already been erased by the wind, and clearly enough places to hide behind. Hills and large rocks, even trees.

“Bellatrix!” He shouted, “Bellatrix!”

There was no reply, just the sound of the wind. Harry sighed, deeply.

“Bellatrix!”

So she wanted to play hide and seek, did she? Harry could play hide and seek. Harry looked around for the highest spot nearby, which turned out to be a tall rock. He strode off towards it with determined strides. The rough surface was uneven enough that he could easily climb his way up, until he finally reached the top and heaved himself to his feet.

The view from up there was admittedly impressive. Despite it being a harsh and dry landscape the scenery made him feel alive. Much as he loved London, the idea of exploring these unknown lands sent a tingle through his entire body. Harry wondered at what ruins might lay hidden beneath the sand, covered over from years of abandonment. He had a wild urge to head out into the wilderness and only the sense beaten into him by Hermione stopped him. He could go out there and he’d be dead within minutes.

It didn’t stop him from letting his eyes roam far into the horizon, where he did actually spot an outline of what looked like houses. So they hadn’t been as far away from civilization as he had expected. He let himself shrug. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t here to get lost in a desert.

At that thought his eyes fastened on the cloud of sand that started up some distance away. It was small, no enough to be caused by a car or an entire caravan. Definitively too small to be a storm. So, a person. Bellatrix.

The spray got closer and revealed a dark figure, and Harry had no doubt that he was correct. He stayed on top of the rock, watching as she got closer and closer. Once near enough to see Harry realised that she was running at full speed, bent over and arms almost low enough to touch the sand. There was a wide grin covering her face. Harry sighed, and then let out a chuckle. After all, she had told him what she wanted to do.

Harry made his way down the rock – a feat even easier than getting up – and went over to meet her, holding out the half-full bottle of water he had grabbed earlier. Bellatrix was still smiling widely. She was absolutely covered in sand and her pale skin had taken on a distinct red tinge. She grabbed the bottle and downed the water like a drowning man, surprising no one when the water went down the wrong way and she coughed, spitting water all over herself.

“Take it easy,” Harry said, taking the bottle back and giving her a gentle slap on the back.

Bellatrix coughed and smirked at him. “Aww, I didn’t know you cared.”

“I’ll probably stop if you keep giving me that attitude,” Harry said, but he was smiling amicably.

“Naaaah~” Bellatrix sing-sang, grabbing the water from him and dashing away so he couldn’t take it from her again. When Harry followed she kept dashing and didn’t let him get close until the water had ended.

She tossed the bottle at Harry who caught it out of pure reflex. And then she yawned and crawled into the back-seat of the car, curling up like a content cat.

“Bellatrix...” Harry said, looking at her through the still open door.

“Shh… Nap time...” She closed her eyes and began to snore almost immediately.

Even though he would have greatly appreciated knowing just where the heck they were, Harry didn’t have it in him to wake her up. Instead he sighed and closed the door, settling himself in the drivers seat. He did know where the closest town was, at the very least.

The drive there was very much uneventful. There wasn’t another person in sight and nothing broke the silence. Bellatrix was fast asleep in the back, clearly exhausted from being awake for what Harry figured had been at least 30 hours and then a vigorous run in immense heat. She probably needed more water than she had drunk, but he didn’t want to wake her either. She would certainly wake up once she was thirsty enough.

She still hadn’t woken up by the time they reached the outer borders of the city. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he recognised the buildings and realised that they had reached Al Ghaydah at last.

Things were still calm there, especially for a town which was reported as having the most troubles. In fact, it almost seemed deserted. There was an eerie feeling that only increased as they drove deeper into town and with a sudden start Harry realised that he recognised the feeling. Those cold fingers of dread that crept up his spine and the feeling of certainty that a beast was waiting in the corner.

Harry slammed the brakes.

Behind him Bellatrix was unceremoniously slammed against the front seats from the sudden stop.

Harry didn’t wait for her loud swearing to stop before he stepped down on the pedal and getting the car in reverse. The car lurched backwards rapidly, speeding up as they went and only the fact that they had been driving on a straight street stopped them from crashing into anything. Harry only took his foot of the pedal as they reached the outskirts of town, breathing heavily.

Again…! How had he almost headed into a fear-spot _again!?_ His heart was beating so hard he could feel his pulse in his hands, throbbing against the steering wheel.

In the back Bellatrix sat up properly and leaned forward, tilting her head and looking at him from the side.

“Bad place?” She asked and Harry could only nod.

“A very bad place.”

It took Harry a while before he felt calm enough to attempt moving forwards again. Even so, he didn’t want to enter the town at all. By this point they were close enough to attempt going off-road and finding the Slytherin ruins.

Harry dug through his pack and pulled out a worn map. Hermione had, last time they were here, attempted to create a map to the ruins. And Harry thought he’d be able to follow it, well enough. He would have preferred to get help by the nomads like last time, but with the way things were they ought to be steering clear of any towns.

Still, they could make the journey with the car. Probably. It was made to go off-road and felt a damn slight safer than trying to make it on foot. What they did need was to stock up on provisions and gas. The tank was getting dangerously close to empty.

Harry hadn’t expected it to be a real problem. Just stock up on everything needed while in Al Ghaydah, he had figured. It wouldn’t be a problem. But to get inside there again…

The map was shaking. Actually, it was his hands.

Harry frowned, forcing himself to be still. This was ridiculous. They had made it out just fine, and even if he didn’t want to risk stepping foot inside again, he shouldn’t be this terrified. There were worse things out there. War. Famine. Riddle. Just to name a few. The fear-spot was still completely avoidable, as long as he was careful. So it was time to man up.

Putting the map aside, Harry steeled himself. He looked back to ask Bellatrix if she was ready, but the woman was already fast asleep again. Completely bonkers. Harry shook his head and breathed deeply.

This time the drive was much slower as he attempted to notice even the slightest switch in the air. Harry was sure that he erred on the side of caution a lot of times, as his own natural fear clouded his senses. But with a slow, circuitous route he managed to find a gas station and pulled in. There was still juice in the machines, even if the area was completely deserted.

Harry gratefully filled up the tank and after a small hesitation shook Bellatrix awake. He didn’t want to leave her defenceless while he went inside. Even if he hadn’t seen a single person so far, that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

“Bellatrix,” He said quietly, “We need to get food. I’m going to check what I can find in there. You stay out here and guard the car, okay?”

She blinked at him and Harry took that as agreement. But when he pulled out from where he had leaned into the car she followed suit.

“No, I said wait here.” Harry frowned. “What are you doing?”

The grin was wide. “Ickle Potty has a bad memory, hmm~? Bella can’t leave his side.”

“Ah, crap.” He sighed. “Come on, it’s like two seconds. You can basically see me through the windows all the time.”

“Noooooope~”

“But you did it before, remember? When you were running around the desert?”

She frowned at that. “No… Bella can’t… can’t take her eyes of Harry Potter. Her master said so.”

Yet she had. Harry wondered at that, but they didn’t have the time.

“Fine, come on, let’s go quickly then.”

They headed into the small gas station hut, the door swinging open at Harry’s touch. It was so quiet it was eerie and Harry imagined someone jumping out at them at any second. The air felt dank and something smelled sickly sweet.

There were a couple of shelves of base products lined up inside, and a broken fridge of what appeared to be perishables. Whatever had been in there had long since gone bad and rotted. Harry gagged at the smell and covered his mouth. Bellatrix, unsurprisingly, seemed unaffected, except for a small wrinkle of her nose to indicate distaste.

Amongst the other shelves they did luck out and found some canned food. Nothing exciting, but it would keep and do well for them. Harry packed a bag full with as many as he could carry.

“Great.” The word almost shattered the silence and he winced. “Uh. Water, we need water, then I think we’re ready.”

There didn’t seem to be any bottles ready to go, and no taps inside of the house. But in the backyard there was a well.

“Well, I guess that will do.” Harry said and grinned as if he had made the joke of a lifetime.

Bellatrix started at him with incomprehension in her eyes.

“You know, it’s a pun..? Because it’s a well out there...” Harry had never thought it possible that he would feel like the crazy one in her company. “...whatever, let’s fill up on water from there.”

 

Facing the desert, Harry began to wonder if they had got enough supplies after all. The sun was gleaming against the golden grains, sparkling and twisting and just being generally huge. Had they really been able to cross that in a couple of days on camel?

Still, it wasn’t all sand. The path Harry was intending to take was just a sand covered stone with a number of rock formations shooting into the sky at irregular intervals. He recognised it as the route they had taken. At least he was pretty sure. Ninety percent. Unless there were a lot of similar places in the desert. Harry wasn’t sure.

The further they travelled, the less sure he became. Especially once they left the relative ease of rock behind and had to start attempting to cross sand instead. God, what if he was leading them the wrong way? What if this wasn’t it at all and they would instead just be lost to wander the desert forever?

His palms were clammy and Bellatrix was no help at all. She was singing loudly again and when Harry had asked if she remembered how they got there she had only shrugged. It hadn’t mattered to her and she hadn’t paid attention.

“Great, just great,” Harry mumbled beneath his breath. But there was nothing to it. They couldn’t turn back now, it wouldn’t help any. Maybe they were even close, just moments away from seeing it. Even on camel Harry hadn’t seen the ruins until they had been almost upon them.

He pushed on, occasionally finding himself praying to something he didn’t quite believe in. When he first caught sight of something that seemed flat and intentionally shaped instead of formed by the wind, Harry almost didn’t believe it. Yet as they drew nearer more structures were becoming visible and Harry breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“We made it!” As excitement filled him, Harry turned towards Bellatrix. “We made it!”

She joined in his excitement and began to jump in the car, shouting loudly. Harry didn’t mind, just focused on getting them the final part of the way.

The driving became easier then as the ruins stopped things from being complete desert and old remnants of paths made it smooth. Harry drove past the houses and stopped straight in front of the ruined castle.

“Alright.” He said, the corners of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk and the familiar excitement of adventure crept on him. “Let’s find ourselves a wizard.”


	10. Chapter 10

The ruins looked much the same as they had last time. Riddle’s hasty, but carefully organised path still led the way deep inside and only a few boulders had fallen since then. That had Harry breathing out a sigh, because he’d been half convinced that the warlord would blow the place up behind him, making sure that no one else would be able to get to any remaining treasures. Or secrets, in this case.

Perhaps it had been a precaution from Riddle’s side, to ensure nothing would be lost in case he needed it. Harry already knew that Riddle hadn’t been sure of what would happen at all. The stupid bastard.

Fuming slightly as he remembered the stupidity, Harry trekked down the path. He figured the best way would be to go to the centre and then work their way out from there. If there were any magicians lurking around in there, all fiction had told him that they would be found in the centre. For magic users, that kind of thing mattered as well. Rituals and stuff. Places of power. It was also the place with the statues, Harry was pretty certain of that.

Harry didn’t know much about it, but even if no one was there this would let him investigate just how the hell Riddle had come over these new ‘powers’ of his. Or rather, how he had managed to curse himself. Trust that bastard to purposefully curse himself and act as if it was a boon.

Unlike last time, when Bellatrix had been dragging him down that road on the end of a rope – Harry mentally gave his most gracious thanks to her for that _pleasure_ , he now had the time to actually look around, stop for a moment to investigate anything that caught his eye. It made for slow going, but now that they had reached the destination Harry didn’t much mind. When he wasn’t in a hurry (in other words, running away) he truly enjoyed visiting these places. It had grown on him, ever since he and Hermione stumbled over their first. Even if he wasn’t as into it as Hermione, who would go crazy over the smallest vase fragment.

Surprisingly, the palace seemed clean of fear-spots. As they wandered the chambers Harry figured that it would have been the first to go, but he didn’t feel even a sliver of fear. Well, he didn’t feel a sliver of unnatural fear. If he yelped and jumped back, crashing into Bellatrix, as he looked around a corner and came face to face with a statue of a wolf, no one needed to know.

But this didn’t mean it wasn’t exciting. Slytherin’s ruins were a strange place, dark and with tunnels that diverged into seemingly all directions. It felt more like a maze than a castle, even if the main road was easy enough to follow. They had been incredibly lucky that Riddle’s quest hadn’t forced them off the beaten path because Harry figured you could be lost for days.

The thought sent his heart racing and Harry had to force himself to continue down the main road. They had a mission, he could run off and play later.

He was, in fact, planning on doing so once all of this was over with. Maybe take a week to just explore the deep paths. Hermione would be with him too, he was sure she’d love it. He most certainly did not dwell on the fact that with things being the mess they were, ‘after’ might not look anything like he expected. Things had shifted and his rivalry with Riddle… well, it wasn’t the same now that he knew how intense Riddle’s grey eyes could get as the man pushed close, or how much Harry really liked the feel of those hands creeping up his back. He didn’t consider his confused mumble of emotions, probably more suited to a hormonal teenager than a man well into his twenties. He didn’t consider it at all.

The huge chamber looked the same as it had the last time, only less well-lit and a bit more of a mess. Harry shone his torch around the room and took in the fallen statues and the debris left behind from a heavy battle. Except for the bullet holes in the walls Riddle (well, his men) had done an admirable job of cleaning it up. Harry couldn’t find a single bullet littering the floor and of course, the fallen men were nowhere to be seen. Riddle ran a clean operation and leaving a trail of bodies was never a good choice.

Bellatrix was surprisingly silent next to him, more tense than he had ever seen her before.

“Are you okay?” She might be a horrible person but Harry couldn’t help but be concerned for her. Because she also wasn’t a horrible person, somehow. He figured she was more misinformed and too mistreated to tell what was right and what wasn’t.

She gave him an attempt at her usual cocky grin. “This is where… My Lord marked me as his.” Her torch shone on a spot around the centre of the hall. She shuddered and a look of rage took over her face. “I… I don’t like feeling like this.”

“Woha!” Harry jumped back as she drew her gun, almost bashing his side in the progress. “Bellatrix, calm down!”

She didn’t listen and the shots echoed through the chamber as she emptied her gun into the room. Harry stared in horror as the shots bit into the ground, the walls and the remains of a raised podium at the far end. It was over faster than he had time to react and in the end Harry just stared as Bellatrix noisily clicked the trigger of an empty gun.

If there was someone skulking around the ruins, at least they would be aware of them now.

Harry let out a sigh and laid his hand on top of Bellatrix’s hands. Where it touched the metal of the weapon felt hot on his palm.

“Shh,” he said, gently pushing for her to lower it. “It’s okay. There’s nothing there to kill, right?” Just potential artefacts that could be helpful to them, now smashed into pieces. “Take it easy...”

He wasn’t sure his voice was as calming as he hoped, but at least she stopped her attempts to ruin everything they had come to find. Harry pushed harder on the gun and she allowed him to lower her arms.

“Come on...” Harry looked up at her face and was horrified to see tears running down her cheeks. She didn’t look insane at that moment, just like a broken, miserable woman. Harry felt his heart go out to her and he pulled her into a hug.

She clung to him for dear life, her fingers digging in to his skin as she sobbed.

“He’s my everything, now.” The words were fractured, interrupted by deep intakes of breath. “He… he shot my wolf, yet now… he’s my everything!”

She had said that before, proclaimed Riddle to be above all, but now the words were wretched and pained instead of proud.

When she began to quiet down Harry gently led her back towards the wall and helped her sit down on a fallen column.

“Hey...” He said, “It’s going to be alright, you know? That’s why we are here. So I can find whatever we need to do to decurse Riddle and take the power away from him. So you don’t need to feel like this anymore. Okay?”

Harry attempted to untangle himself from the grip of her arms, but before he had got far the arms stiffened and held him still.

“You’ll… take it away?”

He nodded. “I’ll take it away and make it so he can’t control you any longer.”

Bellatrix’s eye’s widened and her face grew pale. “You can’t!” The nails dug in again, scoring deep gouges that Harry was sure had begun to bleed. “You can’t take him away from me too!”

Harry froze, staring down at her. Fuck, Riddle had made a mess out of an already broken woman’s mind. He had made himself the rock of a woman who in reality hated him. Frowning, Harry reached out and brushed a piece of hair back from her face.

“It’s going to be alright, okay? You’ll get through it, and you’ll feel better.”

“Will I?” she said in a small voice.

The brunette nodded, he couldn’t bare open his mouth and reassure her. After all, he didn’t know. He felt just as lost as she, and the prospect of lifting the curse was really nothing but a distant hope at this point. And how would he be able to help her, even if they succeeded? Harry didn’t know the first thing about helping someone process loss.

This time when he pulled away Bellatrix let him.

“I’ll be just a moment, okay? Just going to look over there.”

It was with heavy steps that he made his way down the steps and across the room, sweeping his torch around to get a better look. The raised dais on the other side appeared to have been a raised platform that held a throne, but the furniture had long since been broken and all that remained was a pile of rubble. There didn’t seem to be anything useful, but Harry was careful to look at everything.

He had a vague memory of Riddle holding something in a hand, so nothing too large. A key perhaps, or… Harry couldn’t really come up with anything else. Something of magical symbolism, certainly, but what could it be? 

“Gah...” Harry shook his head and tossed the idea of _figuring it out_ out of his mind. He had never been the one who was good at that part, that was Hermione’s department. What he did know, however, was obvious. The symbol that Riddle kept pasting on all and everyone like it was a sticker and not a magical leash. Whatever was of importance was certain to have that mark on it. Had to have it.

Harry rooted around the piles of debris, pushing broken stone away with his feet. There was nothing there, no magical artefact, nothing but junk.

“Shit!” He turned and kicked at the wall, suddenly feeling a sense of uselessness. He had gone all the way to Yemen only to find nothing. What had he been expecting anyway? Riddle had already been there so of course there would be nothing left to find, the man would have snatched it all up. If he was being honest with himself this entire trip might have been nothing but a vain attempt for him to feel useful while Hermione and Snape did all the actual work. It wouldn’t surprise him if he came back, only to find that they had already solved the problem and everyone was skipping happily into the sunset.

If he were to count his accomplishments it had been to make a madwoman cry. A great feat for sure. There was nothing helpful here and honestly, how was he expecting to find a magician? Looking for a needle in a haystack indeed, only he had lost his certainty that they were magnets. Harry figured that somehow, he had expected to find the ruins and then everything would just resolve itself. They would find the artefact and a mage would pop-up out of the ground and give them all the information needed. In plain English, because that was another thing he hadn’t even stopped to consider. He hadn’t even brought a freaking dictionary.

Harry aimed another kick at the wall, just for good measure. He needed to get a grip, it was much too early to give up. If there were no clues to be found in that chamber then he would just try the next. There were so many places unexplored and one of them had to contain something of use. It would just.. it would just take a little longer, that was all.

Besides, hadn’t he been excited over the prospect just a moment before?

Collecting himself, Harry turned to head back up to Bellatrix. She was still sitting on the fallen pillar, looking desolate.

“Come on,” Harry said as he grabbed her arm and helped her get up. “Let’s get out of this room, you’ll feel better.”

“Better...” Bellatrix murmured, but followed him out. “Better, better, better...” She kept up a steady stream of the word until they had fully left the chamber behind and then she suddenly yelled. “Best!”

Harry was so startled from the sudden noise that he tripped over a piece of debris, landing flat on his face. “Ouch...” He pushed himself up with his arms and shook his head, trying to make sense of the sudden shift in position. Behind him, Bellatrix was giggling.

“…I can’t believe I was worried...” Harry muttered as he brought his feet under him and got up. Bellatrix seemed to be completely back to normal and was running around like an overzealous puppy. It seemed rather odd, but then this was Bellatrix, so maybe he shouldn’t expect normal behaviour from her. But in the chamber she had almost seemed clear of mind, and hurting.

Oh well. Better that she was acting as usual, or they would never get anything done. Harry looked around and decided to take the first corridor to his left. He honestly had no idea where any of them led, so it felt like just as good a starting point as any. Bellatrix followed behind, eager.

“Heeeey, Harrykins...” She said, when it seemed like walking in silence had become too much for her. “Heeey….”

“What?”

“What are we looking for?”

“What?” Harry spun around and looked at the woman. She was fluttering along, eyeing the walls and floors with interest. “What?”

“What are we looking for~~?” She spun in a circle, arms out and sent a pot crashing to the ground. “Oopsie!”

“What do you mean, what are we looking for? I’ve told you.”

Bellatrix looked down at the mess by her feet, frowning. “I broke it.”

Harry let out a sigh, wondering why he was even bothering. The woman had the attention span of a goldfish. Shaking his head he turned around and continue walking, only paying half a mind to making sure that she was following. It took a minute or so and then he heard her light steps rushing after him.

They continued on for a while longer before the silence became too much for Bellatrix again. She was walking ahead of Harry now, turning to walk backwards.

“Hey~~,” She started, “Why are we going this way?”

“Sigh. Bellatrix, we’re looking for a wizard, remember?”

“I do.” She nodded vigorously. “But why are we going this way?”

Harry gave her a tired shrug. “It seemed as good a path as any, considering we have no idea where they might be.”

Bellatrix tilted her head, considering. “Why didn’t we ask that man, then?”

Harry snapped his head back from where he had been staring down a long tunnel. “What did you say? What man?”

“The one who was back there. Funny looking, weird beard.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not fashionable at all.”

The idea that Bellatrix would complain at anyone’s sense of fashion felt a bit much, considering Harry had never seen her in anything but long black gowns made of satin, but that really wasn’t the time to bring it up.

“You saw a man and you didn’t tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“It didn’t seem important.”

“Shit. Alright, come on, we’ll go back. Show me where he was.”

Bellatrix grinned at him. “Only if you can keep up!”

And then she was off, running at full speed down the corridor and pushing Harry aside to get past him. During the time it took him to swear and right himself she as almost out of his sight.

That damned woman! Harry kept cursing in his head, figuring that he would need to save his breath for running. She was fast, possibly even faster than Harry, but not while wearing a dress like that. Harry managed to keep up with her as they raced back the corridors they had already walked down. Mentally, Harry despaired that the man she had seen would either be long since gone, or that he had never existed in the first place. He wouldn’t be too surprised if it was all a figment of her imagination. But at the same time… He was going out of his mind, just walking those halls and looking for someone or something that might not even be there. This was an actual lead.

Up ahead of him Bellatrix had come to a halt and she was pointing down a corridor to the right. Then her eyes suddenly lit up and she dashed down it, not waiting for Harry to catch up.

“Wait, Bellatrix!” Harry shouted, but of course she didn’t. He reached the corridor and had to grab a hold of the wall to almost bodily throw himself around to manage the sudden turn. She was running further down and in front of her there was something moving. It could have easily been a shadow, but in that light Harry believed it to be the edge of a cloak. Shit, had she actually found him?

Feeling suddenly reenergised Harry put in an extra burst of speed and hunted after them. He managed to catch up with Bellatrix, spared a moment to wonder if she had allowed him to, but the man was still as far away as he had been before. They consistently never gained on him, but on the other hand they didn’t lose him either.

It felt like they were being led somewhere. And that in itself felt like a trap, but Harry was too out of breath to care. It would almost be a mercy to be put out of his misery. His legs were burning and so was his lungs and there was a terrible stitch in his side and a door in his face.

“Ack!” Harry shouted as he ran smack into the door that he had somehow not seen and that was hard enough to send him sprawling on his arse. Of course, this sent him straight into the path of Bellatrix who jumped over him, and then stopped, laughing. This was not his best day.

“Ahem.” The deep voice broke him out of glowering at Bellatrix and Harry snapped his head around to look at a middle-aged man looking at him from around the door. Fucking door. “Are you coming in?”

The man did fit the image of a wizard, Harry supposed. He had a wild, overgrown mane of hair and an equally untamed beard and he was wearing what looked like a stylized bathrobe. Only black and not in felt. Where he gripped the door with his hand Harry could see yellow nails that had him shuddering slightly.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” Harry said, still not getting up. “Are you a wizard?”

The cackled the man let out could match Bellatrix’s in insanity. “Boy, I’m not just a wizard, I’m the wizard you’re looking for. Now come on!” His mouth did a strange sneer as he said the word wizard.

He disappeared behind the door and Harry suddenly realised that the reason he hadn’t seen it until he ran into it was because it had been opened an inch away from his face. At least that made him feel slightly less stupid, Harry thought as he pulled himself from the ground. Bellatrix had already followed the man inside so she wasn’t there to see his pained grimace. If he didn’t deserve a good long bath after this…

Behind the door was what looked like quite a comfortable room, lit up with the glow of two oil lamps. There was a cot in a corner that seemed to serve as a bed and a table and chairs standing in the centre. Fabric draped across the wall, depicting scenes that had Harry’s skin crawling. Darkness as the prevailing theme, images people walking into the darkness or worse, being dragged in. In it’s depth the hint of _something_ lying in wait. Harry knew that scenario all too well.

“Close the door behind you, boy.”

Harry only realised that he had stopped at the entrance when the man’s voice broke through his haze. He forced himself to look away as he closed the door and was careful not to look at the walls any more. Even so his mouth felt dry and his palms were sweaty. Harry had a feeling he knew exactly who this was.

Bellatrix had already taken a seat at the table and their host was bringing over cups of steaming coffee. He gestured for Harry to sit down as well and the brunette did as asked. The man didn’t seem intent on harming them, so it was better to keep him in a good mood.

There was silence until the man had settled down opposite of them and loudly slurped at his coffee. He wordlessly bid them to do the same but Harry stopped Bellatrix when she grabbed the brew. He didn’t think anything good would come from her drinking it, even if it hadn’t been tampered with. In fact, it might even be worse if it didn’t contain poison, because dealing with a caffeine-boosted Bellatrix sounded like hell.

“Uh,” Harry started when it seemed like the man had no intention of saying anything. “Thanks for inviting us in?”

He got a gruff grunt in return and the man finished his coffee. “You were making more noise than a bunch of hippogriffs up there. Since it would have taken you forever to find me on your own, I figured I’d give you a hand.”

“Oh, right. Uh, most kind.” Hippogriffs? What the heck was a hippogriff? Harry considered asking but decided it wasn’t worth it. That would be a mystery for another time.

“I want to enjoy the rest of my days in silence, so let’s get this over with. You,” He pointed to Harry, “and you,” the finger moved to Bellatrix, “are marked. And because you don’t want to end up like the dimwits around here you were hoping for a way to make it go away.”

That seemed as good an explanation as any. Harry nodded, even while frowning. Despite hearing the words perfectly there seemed to be something strange with how the man said them, like his lips didn’t fit the words. For that matter, it seemed strange that he was speaking English at all, and without even the least hint of an accent.

“Well, I can’t do that.”

“What?”

“I said I can’t do that. Don’t think no one alive can do it. Needed a half-a-dozen wizards to cast it in the first place, far be it from a single one to undo it. All messed up as well, several spells mixed together. And curses grow stronger over time, you know, and there aren’t hardly any mages left. That mark stays where it is.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” Harry shouted, even as Bellatrix decided it was her turn to pipe up.

“Why would you want to remove this connection to our Lord?!” She was giving him such an intense stare that Harry could feel it, despite how hard he was staring at the wizard.

They both ignored her outburst and the bearded man sighed.

“Youth, so impatient. I can’t take that away,” he gestured to the mark, “but we can contain the beast.” He gave a grin and showed off teeth that were about as yellow as his nails.

Harry leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “Is that.. I mean, alright, how?” Then he paused and frowned. “And how do I even know you have the power to help us? Didn’t you just say there are no mages?”

The man shook his head. “I said hardly. Besides, boy, who do you think I am? You know, don’t you?”

Harry gave a reluctant nod. “I think so, at least.”

“Pssh, this is not the time to second guess yourself. You know who I am, even if you don’t know my name. And I don’t intend to let you know, either way.”

“If that’s true, then why should I trust you?” Harry bit out, annoyed at his sudden fear that this man had the power to make things worse for them and had happily done so in the past.

“My beef is not with you or your master-”

“Don’t call him that!”

“My revenge is done, boy. So you can take my help or you can get out of here and wait for the darkness to spread.”

Harry glanced at the tapestries, saw the faces of those devoured. Terror, complete and utter terror. He nodded.

“Thought so. Now then, sit here while I prepare it.”

– – – – –

Harry stood in the opening of the castle, looking at the sun reflecting off the vial in his hand. The liquid inside was dark and slow moving, surprisingly reminiscent of the coffee Harry had declined. He was glad that he wasn’t the one who needed to drink it.

But Riddle would. Harry would have to make Riddle drink it and then they would have to face their fears. Literally offering themselves to the beast. Well, technically Harry didn’t, but he felt it was a bit of a mean thing to send Riddle in by himself. Even if he deserved it.

There was no way Riddle would willingly put that substance in his body. Even if it hadn’t looked like death itself the man would be suspicious and would probably assume it was poison. He didn’t feel like the trusting type.

For all that mattered, Harry didn’t actually know if it wouldn’t kill him. Maybe that was the only way to stop the curse. The wizard had not been very forthcoming with what would happen exactly, except for snapping at him that “this will stop the darkness from spreading. It’s all that matters, right?”

And it was. Only Harry wasn’t sure he was the kind of person who was able to handle that sort of “no matter what” situation. Even if Riddle was an arse, could he live with having killed him?

For a brief moment Harry considered smashing the vial against the ground. He could just let the thirsty desert soak up whatever magic was in it, and wash his hands of this whole thing.

He could keep running, now that he had got this far. Bellatrix didn’t seem to mind travelling the world with him. So long as she could fulfil her master’s command she seemed happy. So long as they kept moving Harry would bet they could escape Riddle for a good long time.

And once Harry was out of sight, he would also be out of mind, right? There was plenty of other things that Riddle could occupy himself with. He’d forget Harry within a month.

Still, Harry didn’t quite believe that. It might have been true before, but magic was a pain in the arse and Riddle was a tenacious bastard. It was possible he would hunt Harry til the end of the world.

He sighed. He couldn’t run. It wasn’t only Riddle that was affected but also half of London. And here. And they didn’t know what would happen if the fear-spots kept expanding. Well, they didn’t know for sure. Harry was pretty sure a certain wizard had made tapestries of what would happen. Shit that was messed up. People suffered and he made tapestries to commiserate the event.

He really shouldn’t trust him, right? The wizard who had caused this entire fiasco from the start.

Harry took off his backpack and gently rolled the vial in one of his shirts before placing it in. There wasn’t a choice. He would have to get Riddle to drink it and then live with the consequences. Better to have one life on his conscience than the entire world.

“Shall we go?” Harry turned to look at Bellatrix who was rolling in the sand between a couple of buildings. He didn’t know why she had such an obsession with the stuff, but it felt somehow pure. His heart felt a little lighter seeing the childish joy on her face as she frolicked.

“I think that’s a good idea.” The gruff voice was followed up by the hard muzzle of a gun poking at his back.

Harry startled. He hadn’t heard them coming.

“Come on, get moving,” the person gave a rough push at his back. “Our Lord is tired of waiting.”

As Harry watched more people came out from behind various buildings, a couple of them grabbing Bellatrix when she was about to fly at the guy holding Harry at gunpoint.

“Relax darling,” The man drawled, “We won’t hurt him. The boss would have my hide.”

Still, Bellatrix would never go down without a fight, so Harry winced as they hit her hard behind her ear, sending her sprawling into the sand, unconscious.

“Oh come on,” Harry said, turning slightly to look at the man holding him at gunpoint as he seemed to be their leader. “You don’t need to freaking hurt her.”

The man just sneered. “It’s our Lord’s prerogative to decide what happens to her, not yours.”

“It’s not yours either!” Harry was suddenly furious and he turned around, despite the threatening click of the gun. “What, are you going to shoot me? I know for certain that _someone_ wouldn’t be too pleased if that happened, so you can stop the act!”

“I’d be careful, brat,” the goon growled, even as he holstered his gun, “I might not be allowed to shoot you, but my lord is angry enough that he don’t mind a little harm – perhaps you’d like to spend the journey unconscious as well?”

Harry spat at him. “Just don’t hurt her more than needed and I will come quietly. You can just tie her up instead of bashing her brain in!”

The man looked furious, but he called out for a man to tie her up.

“Let’s go.” He shoved Harry, none too gently.

As they were led through the sand-covered town and back to their car, Harry didn’t know if he should cry or laugh. On one hand he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be ushered back to Riddle – so much for his plans to get away – but on the other this was sure to make the way back a lot easier. Riddle had probably pulled some strings and got them a private plane. All to recover one lost man.

Ugh. Harry had a feeling the near future would not be very pleasant.


	11. Chaper 11

They arrived in London early in the morning and Harry was pushed out of the plane and into a nondescript car seconds later. His lovely escort left him then, only to have him sandwiched between two of the largest men Harry had ever seen.

Harry was grateful that the roads were empty that early, because there wasn’t much space left for him to sit between them.

“Come on...” He whined, “Can’t you move over a bit?”

The guard on his right, that Harry had mentally dubbed burly guard no. 1, moved his right arm. It did nothing to get Harry more space.

“Oh great, thanks a lot.”

He only received a smile in return. Harry decidedly did not like burly guard no. 1. No. 2 was fine, just sitting there in silence, even if he hadn’t made an effort to move either. Did everyone Riddle hired have to be an arse?

On the other hand at least he got treated better than poor Bellatrix, who he had caught a glimpse of before she had been shoved into the trunk of the car. All she had tried to do was following Riddle’s orders, but apparently even that was wrong.

It wasn’t long before they car rolled to a stop in front of Riddle’s apartment building and Harry felt his annoyance melt away as it was replaced by trepidation. The guards showed no mercy and tugged him up, past the footman who was acting like absolutely nothing was wrong with that scene. Harry hoped it was all an act and that he would come to his senses and call the cops the moment the elevator doors closed behind them.

But he knew that was nothing but a vain dream and his anger returned. Stupid Riddle and his stupid henchmen and that stupid apartment building.

“Ouch!” Harry hissed as burly guard no. 1 grabbed his arm to pull him out of the elevator and unceremoniously pushing him inside Riddle’s apartment. “Take it easy man!”

The guard didn’t respond with anything but drawing back and shutting the door, leaving Harry alone in there. He was grateful to observe that it was actually completely empty and no Riddle in sight. That was good, it bought him time. He knew that sooner or later the man would show up, but for now…

Harry pulled on the door, surprised when it opened. Then again, there was no point in locking it because there was a knob on his side that allowed him to open it as he pleased. And the wall of a man taking up the entire door frame was probably enough to stop him from leaving. Harry beat on the man’s back for good measure, but he didn’t even flinch. Stupid guard no. 1.

“Hey, move! Let me out of here you big lump!” He shouted, putting enough effort into pummelling the man that he got out of breath. “Come… on..!” He stopped, panting.

Only then did the man move, and it was just to look down at him over his shoulder.

“The boss will decide when you are let out.”

“Oh, what a surprise,” Harry drawled as well as he could while still being out of breath, “I have yet to meet any of his goons that has a mind of their own.” It wasn’t technically true – Snape did seem to run his own course most of the time – but Harry had seen it annoy Riddle’s men enough to make them careless before. This mountainous man didn’t as much as twitch.

“Fuck. Fine, then, could I at least get my pack?” The man stared at him. “It should be in the car your colleague dragged me from. Come on!”

A long second dragged by with neither of them breaking stare, then the man reached inside of the room at closed the door.

Out of all of Riddle’s followers, Harry was pretty certain that had to be the most annoying. Rating even above Snape, and that was a feat. In less than five minutes, even. He aimed a kick at the door, but stopped at one because kicking the door was just as useless as kicking at the man.

“Shit, shit, shit...” This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He needed to get out of here and he needed to get his bag. Riddle was bound to be pissed off and Harry didn’t exactly want to be trapped with him when they next met.

There was only one thing to do, and that was to look for alternative exits. Riddle was a paranoid man, right? Living a life like that, he had to be. And he spent a lot of time crawling around in ancient dungeons. If there was one conclusion to draw from that it had to be that he would have a secret door somewhere.

Harry scanned what he could see of the apartment and swiftly cancelled the idea of the far side, where there was nothing but tall glass windows. Riddle would have had to work pretty hard to hide a secret tunnel there. To the left was a wall that was half glass, half wall. That was to say the right side of it was window and the left hosted Riddle’s liquor cabinet. That indicated… Harry moved closer and nodded as he looked out the window. The end of the building on that side. It didn’t seem likely to be any way to get out there, unless he fancied a free-fall. He checked the area anyway, just for good measure, but didn’t find anything.

That then left the rest of the apartment. Harry realised with a start that he hadn’t actually seen any other parts of it, even if Riddle had been most eager to show him his bedroom. That being said Harry decided to leave the bedroom until last. It was too obvious a place. Better to have a hidden door in the kitchen. Last place people would check and so the first, well, _second_ , for Harry.

All of the rooms had doors so Harry gingerly opened the first one, feeling relieved when it did in fact turn out to be the kitchen. The room was, surprising no one, state of the art. Shining metal counters and gleaming white cabinets. There was a kitchen island and from the shelves without doors Harry could see that it was well-stocked with anything a person could ever dream of. His aunt Petunia would have wet her pants over this. At the far end, before the windows, stood a white-painted dining table with matching chairs.

It did not look used. Every area was too clean, everything scrubbed until spotless. Along with the windows the place looked beautiful and like it should be in an interior design catalogue. It also looked cold and sterile.

Well, Harry didn’t believe anyone would find wonder in the fact that Riddle didn’t use his own kitchen. He seemed more like the type to visit fancy restaurants or who had his own cook. Harry sauntered inside, taking it all in. This kitchen was wasted on Riddle, honestly. Harry might not be the greatest chef, but the things he could make if he had access to this… He stopped and opened a cupboard, eyes wide as he pulled out the largest pot he had ever laid eyes on. It had taken up the entirety of that cupboard alone and was heavy enough that Harry couldn’t be bothered to lift it all the way to the counter and instead let it rest on the ground.

You could possibly fit all of him in there, with some clever puzzling. Harry giggled at his own joke before finding the thought ominous and shovelled the pot back inside, closing the door on that line of thought. He had seen enough to know that cannibalism didn’t use to be as odd as it was now and well… he was already nervous enough without imagining that Riddle would attempt to cook and eat him.

Besides, he had a mission, didn’t he? Getting out of there _before_ Riddle showed up. Which was an unknown timeline, really. It could be in and hour and it could be in a minute. Riddle might already be there, having snuck inside while Harry was distracted. A shiver ran down his spine and he turned around to look at the open door. The doorway was empty. Of course it was. Imagining that Riddle would try to sneak up on him was crazy. The man had no need to be stealthy and would probably whirl inside with a frenzy.

Harry nodded to himself and then shook his head. He needed to stop distracting himself and start to seriously look for a way out. Looking was a slow progress, as he was certain an exit wouldn’t be obvious. There was also certainly some sort of trigger to be found. Harry felt around the counters, checking for any bumps or uneven surfaces that could be clicked. He opened cupboards and tried to see if anything was stuck to the shelf that he could pull.

He had just concluded that there probably was nothing in the kitchen when he heard the door open. Harry froze by the kitchen island, trying to decide if hiding would be worth it, when Riddle appeared in the doorway. Those grey eyes locked on Harry and then he was on him, a hand wrapping around Harry’s throat as Riddle pushed him backwards over the counter. Harry stumbled from the sudden attack, fighting to keep himself upright as Riddle’s other hand wandered, stroking softly across his face and chest as he stared intently.

Once Riddle seemed satisfied that Harry was unharmed some of the intensity in his eyes died down, only to be renewed when Harry made an attempt to wiggle out of his grip. Riddle’s hand shot out and grabbed Harry’s right wrist, pushing it into the counter as well.

“Ugh..” Harry complained, “Riddle..!”

It was all he had time for before Riddle claimed his lips, kissing him ferociously. This was nothing like his earlier seductive kisses but had all to do with domineering. It left Harry breathless and his lips stinging from bites.

When Riddle finally drew back it was only far enough that he could stare at Harry, taking him in. They were both panting slightly and Harry was painfully aware of Riddle’s erection rubbing at him.

“...Harry...” He finally said, breathing the name like he was tasting it. “Did you really think you could get away from me?” The fingers tightened like a vice. “Did you think I’d let you go? Do I need to be even clearer on just _who_ owns you?”

Harry was trying to answer but could only manage a strangled sound. He shook his head, a small motion. Riddle wasn’t paying attention.

“Maybe I should be. I have been very lenient with you so far, allowing you so much freedom and I’ve been so patient. Waiting for you to realise how much you want me. But maybe that was wrong...”

Riddle finally let go of Harry’s throat, running the hand down his chest instead. He didn’t stop until he reached Harry’s crotch, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“So what do you say, Harry? Should I just take what is _mine_?”

Harry’s heart was beating a mile a minute. This was dangerous, Riddle was dangerous. He had never seen him so mad before.

“No,” Harry shook his head, “please don’t, Riddle.”

Above him, Riddle was still. Was he listening? Harry remembered what he had said last time. Consent, he wanted Harry’s consent.

“If you do it like this I’ll never forgive you.”

If Riddle had been still before, he was a statue now. Cold and unmoving as marble. Then something cracked and for a moment there was absolute and unforgiving fury in his eyes. A blink and that was gone, and so was the overbearing presence. Harry found himself able to stand up properly as Riddle moved out of the kitchen with long strides.

Harry took a moment to breathe before urging his shaky legs to follow. He stopped in the doorway from the kitchen nervously. Riddle was by the liqueur cabinet, giving Harry a sense of deja vu. His hands were clenched around a glass and a bottle of whiskey, watching as he slowly poured the golden liquid into the glass. He banged the bottle as he put it back, setting it down with enough force that Harry feared it would break.

Several long, tense moments passed where Harry did nothing but hover nervously in the doorway and Riddle stood frozen, the bottle standing in the cabinet but with Riddle still holding on to it. He didn’t drink from his glass, but the liquid in it was moving.

Harry was struck by the intense feeling that if he did something now, it might all be over. Like Riddle’s self-control would crack and he’d bear down on Harry no matter what he said. He wanted to run, but there was nothing so appealing to a predator as fleeing, was there?

“Harry.” Riddle finally said, still not moving, hand still clenched around the bottle. “Do not toy with me.”

He looked up at Harry over his shoulder. A clink broke the silence and a crack appeared in the glass, slowly working it’s way down and whiskey following it’s path. Their eyes met and Harry’s frightened green couldn’t bear to look away from that intensity. Riddle was breathing hard and he hadn’t appeared to notice the liquid soaking into his sleeves.

Harry wasn’t sure how long they stood like that. Him, caught like a deer in headlights and Riddle eager to pounce. Then Riddle let out a short laugh and threw the whiskey back, letting the glass smash completely as he put it down.

“Fuck.” Riddle sauntered over to the couch and dropped into it. “Why don’t you show me what was important enough to take you from my side.” He gestured to the side of the sofa where Harry suddenly noticed his bag was sitting. “I guess it’s that vial you have in there.”

“Uh, oh...” Harry hadn’t been ready for that sudden change of pace. “Uh, it’s, um a potion.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow, clearly conveying his message.

“Eh, that is...” Harry swallowed. “It’s to stop the beast?”

“Truly?” Harry still hadn’t moved so Riddle sighed and reached over, grabbing the bag and fishing out the vial. “And how is it supposed to do that?”

“That is...” Harry wasn’t sure how to put it, because he had originally intended to trick Riddle. “You’re supposed to drink it.”

Riddle tilted his head and considered the bottle. “I’m not usually in the habit of drinking unknown substances, Harry. More often than not they turn out to be deadly.”

Harry grimaced, despite having expected that outcome. He had just hoped to somehow smuggle the drink past him. If Riddle hadn’t known about it, getting the warlord to drink it would just have been that much easier.

He turned his head away, biting his lip in annoyance. “I’d drink it if I could. But he said it had to be you.” Harry said.

Riddle let out a quick bark of a laugh at that. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would!” Harry snapped his head back, meeting Riddle’s eyes head on.

“No.”

“Yes! Unlike you I’m not a cold hearted arse-hat who doesn’t care about the fate of anyone but themselves!”

Riddle laughed again, toying with the flask in his hands. “No, you wouldn’t.” He paused, but then started talking again before Harry could begin another circle or arguments. “I wouldn’t let you.”

“I..! It’s not up to you, is it?!”

In the sofa, Riddle lifted a hand and gestured around himself. “Take a look around, Harry. In whose apartment are you standing, locked up until you have permission to leave?” Harry didn’t say anything, but he was pretty certain his eyes said it all. Riddle’s gleamed with amusement. “Weren’t you looking for another way out of here, before I arrived?”

Harry let out a haughty sniff that only had Riddle smiling wider.

“You still can’t decide what I can, or cannot do.”

“…Let’s revisit this argument at a later time, shall we? I haven’t seen you for a long time, Harry…” He zeroed in on Harry with dark eyes and his voice lowered. “I’ve missed you… won’t you come sit with me?”

The way Harry’s heart sped up had nothing to do with fear this time. Shit. No one had the right to be so attractive while simultaneously being such an arse. It just wasn’t fair!

“I think I’ll stay over here. I quite like this corner, actually.”

“Mmm...” Riddle hummed, body halfway turned to allow him to lean on the backrest of the couch and gaze at Harry. “Then do me the favour of stepping out of that doorway. It’s quite in the way of me admiring you properly...”

Harry stepped back, placing himself further behind the wall and Riddle’s laughter echoed around the flat.

“Always such a rebel, aren’t you? But that’s what will make it even better, in the end...”

“In the..?” Harry squeaked, before stopping himself from asking the question. He wasn’t stupid, he knew very well what the other meant by it. Somehow there was no doubt in Riddle’s mind that he would get his way, despite Harry rejecting him over and over. In a way, you had to admire his tenacity. In another, it just made him even more of a git.

“ It’s a bit hard to have a conversation like this, wouldn’t you agree?” Riddle continued, switching subjects like he didn’t mind Harry’s silence.

“Not like we have anything to talk about in the first place.”

“ Oh, I disagree.” Riddle stood up now, placing the vial on the table and stepping toward the door. “I’d love to hear all about your little.. excursion. And perhaps a bite wouldn’t be misplaced. What would you like, Harry?”  When Harry said nothing and simply eyed him suspiciously Riddle continued. “I’ll have my men fetch whatever you wish to eat. Whatever it might be.”

“It can be anything?” Harry murmured, more to himself than to Riddle.

“Yes, Harry, anything.”

A light went up in Harry’s eyes and his mouth twisted into a mischievous grin. There was this place Hermione and he had walked past, their eyes boggling at the sight of their prices.

“I want food from the Savoy.”

Unlike what Harry had expected, Riddle didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Instead he gave a sweet smile. “And what would you like from the menu?”

“Uh... Steak?” Harry stumbled, never expecting that Riddle would agree to it. He fumbled to remember what exactly was expensive, but couldn’t think of anything but meat. “And treacle-tart!” Treacle tart?! What had he been thinking? There was no way a fancy restaurant like that served it.

Riddle just nodded and opened the door, speaking quickly to the bodyguard outside.

He closed the door and turned back to Harry. “They’ll be back shortly. In the meanwhile, won’t you have a seat? That does look most uncomfortable.”

“Are you kidding me?!” In he excitement, Harry took a step away from the door and out into the room. He didn’t notice the way Riddle noted his every move. “There’s no way you can get take-out from the Savoy! Especially not something they won’t have at the menu.”

A sigh escaped Riddle’s lips. “Didn’t I tell you I’d get you whatever you wanted?” He waited for Harry’s nod to continue. “So trust me when I say that you will get it. Besides,” he walked close to Harry, slipping past him to get into the kitchen, “one of the chef’s owe me a favour.”

Harry watched, now standing outside of the doorway to the kitchen, as Riddle made his way across the room to open a glass paned cupboard. Behind it were wine-bottles, stacked high.

“Now, for the steak I believe I have a nice Cabernet Sauvignon that should fit perfectly. You do drink wine, don’t you Harry?”

The younger man made a noise which Riddle seemed to take for affirmation, as he pulled out a bottle and uncorked it.

“Would you be a dear and bring me two wine-glasses?” Riddle asked as he did so, nodding with his head toward a cupboard on his right. “They’re in there.”

Harry wanted to disagree, but Riddle was being so polite that he just couldn’t. At this time he could actually believe that the man was the well-respected citizen he portrayed to those of the general public.

The wine-glasses were in the cupboard Riddle had pointed out, but Harry found himself lost in the variety. There were small and large ones, some with glass flowing inwards until the rims seemed uncomfortably close to the centre and others wider. Harry had never realised that there was a difference between wine-glasses before, so he took the ones that seemed easiest to handle; larger and with a wider rim.

As he put them down next to Riddle the man smiled warmly at him. “Good choice.” Harry couldn’t tell if he meant it or not, but the praise made him feel slightly tingly, nonetheless.

Riddle poured the wine into their glasses and handed Harry a glass, before gesturing to the table, letting Harry lead the way. The brunette did take a seat there and when Riddle made the choice to sit across from him, instead of crowding his space, Harry felt himself relax slightly.

“Cheers,” Riddle said, eyeing him over the table. His glass was raised and Harry found himself playing along. The sound of their glasses clinking together was delicate.

The wine was delicious. It was unexpected. Harry had never favoured wine, preferring to stick to a pint whenever possible, but if all wine tasted like that he might even find himself reconsidering.

“It’s good.” Harry said, not because he wanted to make conversation but because the idea was still mesmerizing to him.

“I’m glad...” Riddle sounded pleased. “I somehow imagine you haven’t had the opportunity to taste fine wine like this before.”

Harry scowled at him, even though he was right. “Well, what about it?”

Riddle shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. I merely wish to show you the pleasures you’ve yet to experience.” His voice became an octave lower. “ _All_ of the pleasures.”

If Harry blushed, then no one needed to know except for the two of them. Harry wouldn’t tell anyone and he was pretty certain Riddle wouldn’t want to share it.

To Harry’s surprise, Riddle didn’t take things further. Instead he seemed to relish Harry’s rosy cheeks for a moment before changing the subject.

“You seem to be more relaxed here, in the kitchen.” He noted. He seemed relaxed too.

Harry nodded and there was silence for a moment. That is, until he broke it. “Well, having a table between us helps as well.”

The difference in Riddle’s expression was sudden and almost jarring. He didn’t seem mad, but the expression stilled. Harry felt a pang of guilt and then told himself he was being ridiculous. He didn’t have any reason to be _kind_ to this man. The sudden appearance of manners had thrown him, but it was still Riddle in front of him. He was a killer, a warlord. Harry would bet that somewhere someone was being gunned down by a weapon sold by Riddle, right at that moment.

After that there was just silence, and an awkward one. Riddle didn’t seem inclined to make conversation any longer and Harry was struck silent by the thought that the man might actually be hurt. Ugh. The wine was still delicious but Harry found that he had no particular desire to drink it. He also found a certain loathing of himself, that he would care so much for his enemy’s hurt _feelings_. The man had broken several bones in Harry’s body and he’d never got so much as an apology. So Harry certainly wasn’t going to apologise for being slightly tactless. He hadn’t said anything that was news to either of them.

But it was unnerving, seeing Riddle so… human. Harry felt like he’d seen more of it lately and it was making things hard for him. In the past he had been fuelled by this pure antagonism, and Riddle had perfectly played his part as the villain. The killing, the maiming, the taunting. Harry hadn’t ever wanted to view what laid behind it, but it seemed the other was determined to show him.

But Harry wasn’t going to break, no matter how charming he was.

The silence was broken by a light knock on the door and Riddle strode to open it without a word. Two men in suits stood outside and they each carried two covered plates. Riddle gestured for them to bring it inside and place the food on the table and then they left without a word.

Harry stared at the silver dome covering his food until Riddle sat down again and the man sighed.

“It won’t move by itself, you know.” Without waiting for response he lifted the covers of with a flourish, revealing a plateful of food. There was steak alright, a huge piece swimming in sauce and surrounded by the daintiest potatoes Harry had seen.

“This looks great!” Harry said, hoping to get the conversation started again because he couldn’t handle the strained silence.

Riddle was eyeing his own plate – a venison fillet – and he looked up as Harry spoke. Their eyes met for a second before Riddle smiled and nodded.

“Indeed it does.”

The rest of the dinner was… nice. Riddle was still as polite as he had been before and he seemed careful not to overstep any boundaries. There were no overt flirtations and if there were any subvert ones Harry didn’t notice them. On his side, Harry also tried to keep his tongue in check, if only to avoid casting them into silence once more.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Harry that Riddle was a good conversationalist. He had always had a tendency to talk, but just how well he could carry a conversation had never come up, not in the tense situations they usually found themselves in.

Riddle pulled the story of his and Bellatrix’s trip out of him with what seemed like no effort at all, and with no sudden bursts of rage from Riddle, even when Harry told him about the dangerous parts. Instead he let Harry tell him and it was strangely nice. The brunette couldn’t remember the last time he had had a conversation like that. He might have them with Hermione, but she usually tagged along on all his adventures so he never got to tell them.

So he found himself telling things in detail, and by the time they finished their main course he hadn’t even got around to telling Riddle about the wizard. But at this point Harry got distracted and curiously peaked beneath the lid of the second plate. It was exactly what he had ordered, and the dessert looked as good as he’d ever seen it. It was still warm, and Harry imagined they had received it straight from the oven. The thought made his mouth water.

“Shall we take our dessert in the living-room?” Tom asked, “I have a whiskey that would go wonderfully with this. If I remember correctly you didn’t quite get the opportunity to savour it last time.”

“Uh..” Harry said, “Sure.” He couldn’t quite come up with a good reason as to why he _shouldn’t_. Of course, he knew the facts. Riddle was a bastard who had already tried to molest him out in that living-room. Yet he was being so polite now, and they were having a nice conversation. Harry didn’t want to ruin that.

Standing up, Harry realised that his feeling slightly tingly from the wine might be more than he thought as the swaying of the room made him feel unsteady.

“Steady, there,” Riddle said, a hand on his shoulder helping him gain focus. “You just make your way to the sofa and I’ll bring the dessert.” As Harry nodded and moved along, bumping into the kitchen island on his way out, Riddle said, “As a matter of fact, perhaps you should skip the whiskey.”

Harry turned and gave him an incredulous look. Riddle smiled back widely and followed him with their plates. He set them down on the coffee table as Harry settled on the sofa.

Harry’s bag was still sitting on the seat, looking innocent. It was innocent, Harry thought as he placed it on the floor, because the vial was the bad one. It was sitting forgotten on the table. The look of the liquid still made him feel slightly nauseous. Riddle didn’t appear to notice it.

“Do you still want that whiskey, Harry?” He asked, “You certainly don’t have to, the wine seems to have hit you quite hard already.”

Harry sent a glare his way. “Of course I still want it!”

“Your wish is my command.” Tom mocked, and headed over to the cabinet. “But don’t blame me if you get hungover.”

The vial was still standing on the table, and it brought Harry’s eyes back to it, no matter how he looked away. It should be drunk. It needed to be drunk. By To- Riddle. Harry looked at the bottle, then to Riddle. An idea was growing and before he had realised what it was he had already grabbed the vial and pulled out the stopper, pouring the contents out into his mouth. It was foul, the flavour of bitterness and greed.

He didn’t swallow. Harry was careful not to swallow a single drop, and it was surprisingly easy. Then Riddle came back and he put the glasses down and sat down on the sofa and Harry.. Harry leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. When Riddle stilled from the sudden action he pushed forward, mashing their lips together and pushing the other back.

It didn’t take much before Riddle was kissing him back, and as he opened his mouth so did Harry.

The liquid slid out slowly at first and then quickly as gravity took it and pulled it down. It slid a single mass, and not a drop was left in Harry’s mouth. Riddle pushed him back and away but it was already too late, the lump had slid down his throat and no matter how he coughed nothing would come up.

Harry’s mouth felt ashen. Some of that whiskey would certainly clear it up.

He didn’t get to reach for it because Riddle gave up his desperate coughing and threw himself at Harry, pushing him back into the sofa. There was nothing thrilling in the way he pushed down on Harry’s shoulders or the wide blown eyes that stared down at him.

“What did you do?!” Riddle shook him, bouncing Harry’s head off the cushion. “What did you make me drink?!”

“I..! I..!” In a flash, Harry felt sober again. And he felt bad. He’d said that he would trick Riddle into drinking it, but that had been wrong. So horribly horribly wrong. Whatever trust had been building up between them had broken, and Harry had been the one to break it.

Riddle threw him down and away from himself, getting up from the sofa and grabbing the vial where it was lying on the table. He squeezed the fragile vessel in his hand and it miraculously didn’t break. Not until he hurled it against the wall.

“Fuck! You’ve ruined it! You’ve ruined everything!” Riddle yelled and Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen him lose composure like that. His eyes were absolutely wild, baring his utter panic.

He grabbed the brunette off the sofa and pulled him up like he weighed nothing. Terror or magic held Harry immobile. “More trouble than you’re worth!” He growled and showed Harry up against the windows. “Hey, you like to fly, right? Perhaps you’d like to do so without an aeroplane this time? It won’t be a long trip, but I’ll guarantee it’ll be intense.”

“Riddle... Tom!” Harry finally found his voice. “Calm down! Please!”

“Calm down, you say..!” Riddle pulled his hand back, only to smash Harry against the glass once more. “What point is there to spend the last moments of my life calm?!”

The impact with the glass sent Harry’s head ringing. He tried to focus, tried to find the way to make the other step back. “It’s… not death! It’s not death!”

“What do you actually know?” Riddle spat at him, fingers gripping harder on his collarbone. “You’re not even sure what it does, are you?”

“But I know it’s not death!” Harry shouted back, and that, finally got Riddle to regain a bit of his composure.

“If you’re so sure about that, why don’t you tell me?”

“You’re not dead yet, are you? Or do you feel bad?” Riddle shook his head and Harry continued. “So I think if it would have killed you it would have done so straight away. The wizard said that you need to drink that and then face the beast, to make the _beast_ go away. Which should make the fear-spots disappear as well, probably. So it’s not actually… he said he can’t take the other spell away.” Harry raised a hand and gestured to his neck. “That. He said he doesn’t have the power.”

With that, Riddle finally seemed to calm down properly. He even let go of Harry, absent-mindedly smoothing his shirt down. He gave Harry a calculating look out of the corner of one eye and then sighed, deeply.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” He said, but it didn’t sound like a suggestion. “It’s two doors down from the kitchen.” With a slight gleam to his eye that seemed more like the Riddle Harry knew, he continued. “And do wash up. Neither Yemen nor travelling with Bellatrix is good for your hygiene.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is getting so long now it's killing me... my original intention was for a one-shot, if you'll believe that. Then a whole lot of plot just decided to get involved.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm back! Sorry it took so long, usually I try to have an update out once a month, but this chapter was not easy to write, I even had to rewrite a large chunk of it because it just didn't work. But on the plus side, that made it a great deal longer :)

Sleep had not come easy to Harry. He couldn’t forget the look in Riddle’s eyes, the pure terror. He wouldn’t have imagined the man to be afraid of anything, before. Somehow that changed everything. Riddle had been so afraid of… of death? That despite casting himself into immortality the mere idea of being poisoned had thrown him into panic.

And Harry… Harry had gone and done _that_. It had been almost instinctual, but it didn’t change how guilty he felt. He hadn’t ever been able to sincerely wish Riddle any harm, the naive part of him hoping that everyone could be reformed. Yet instead he’d gone and tricked the man.

Riddle wouldn’t have thought twice about doing it to him. Harry ran the thought over and over as he laid in a too large, too luxurious bed. He wouldn’t have thought twice, if it meant that he could accomplish his goals. It was the man’s character to take whatever he wanted, without considering the feelings of those involved.

But Riddle had stopped himself, several times now, from simply taking what he pleased from Harry. Was that a sign of change? A sign that even someone as heartless as Riddle could evolve and become better?

Harry rolled over in the bed and groaned. If it had been, he had just ruined it, hadn’t he? There had been no need to do it in such a sneaky way, he could have stayed patient for longer. Asking, giving his arguments, _proving_ to Riddle that it would be the right thing to do. Too late, now. Yet he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret it. Not when it had solved his dilemma.

Harry cursed his impulse and rolled over yet again. He threw the duvet away from himself, feeling too hot and stifled, but without it his skin began crawl with goosebumps.

All was silent from the living room, except for the occasional clink of glass.

\- - - - -

Harry opened bleary eyes, blinking at the sunlight that had broken through thick curtains to shine a ray across his face. It was too bright and much too early. The bed felt heavenly beneath him and the duvet laid across him in a heavy embrace, pulling him back down and away from the light. Harry let it, content to snuggle deeper into warmth.

A small part of his brain felt curious over how a piece of fabric could physically pull him back, but those were thoughts for being awake and nothing Harry was interested in at that moment. Not in the least.

Instead he snuggled deeper and felt the embrace tighten around him, holding him closer. Harry drifted back to sleep.

\- - - - - -

The next time Harry awoke it was to find Riddle staring at him. The man was leaning against the windowsill and the curtains had been thrown wide open, the bright sunlight making its way inside leaving Harry squinting.

Riddle didn’t move as Harry blinked himself awake and raised himself up on his elbow, choosing instead to silently stare at him.

“That’s ridiculously creepy,” Harry croaked out, voice rough from sleep. “Normal people don’t stare at others when they sleep.” He yawned and stretched, Riddle’s eyes raking up his body as he did so. He abruptly aborted the movement.

There was still nothing but silence from the man as Harry got out of bed and pulled his shoes back on. He had chosen _not_ to get undressed for bed, only going so far as taking off his shoes and jacket. He had expected Riddle to complain about the state of his bed – now distinctly dirtier than it had been last night – but the man just kept up his silent observation.

Harry eyed him uncomfortably, but wasn’t certain he should say anything further. After all, it wasn’t like he _wanted_ the warlord to talk to him, now did he?

Guilt surged up from his gut, for a moment threatening to overwhelm him. But what could he possibly say to make up for what he did? And Riddle looked fine, anyway. Harry swallowed, then took a deep breath. Riddle didn’t seem like the kind of persons who was particularly interested in shallow apologies. But nor did he look upset. Instead he was gazing at Harry with curiosity in his eyes.

Harry got up from the bed but found himself at a loss of what to do. Normally he would have already been out of there, but something made him stay. And besides, it wasn’t as if he could go far. Riddle was just staring at him, and Harry wondered if this was some sort of new psychological torture. Was Riddle waiting for him to apologise? The words were already formed on his tongue, ready to drop should he open his mouth.

Riddle shifted. “Oh, Harry, don’t look so worried...” His voice was low and languorous. “I spent the night contemplating my potentially inevitable demise, yet the sun has risen and I feel no worse.” He paused, rose to his feet. “So perhaps I have been saved by the magic, or perhaps the liquid was never meant to kill… either way, it’s sweet of you to be so concerned for me.”

The smile was sharp and taunting. The same smile Riddle wore when he was sure of his victory. The same smile Harry had first seen when Riddle offered Harry and Hermione a deal for the helmet. Even half-delirious with pain it had made anger race down Harry’s spine, and this time was no different. If Riddle wanted to antagonise him, then Harry would be happy to play along.

“Seeing as you’re back to acting like a creep, I suppose you must be fine. So now that that’s over with, how about you let me out of here and let me go back to my friend. I have better things to do than loitering in your apartment all day!”

Riddle laughed and it was the happiest sound Harry had ever heard him make.

“Only you would have the guts to call me that. Did you know that I like that about you?” He was moving closer now and Harry didn’t want to run, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Riddle stopped an arms length away, reaching out just enough to run a gentle hand across his cheek. “Those antagonistic words and how you insist on fighting me. It makes me want to tear away every last bit of your resistance...”

For a second his fingers bent enough that Harry could feel the sharp bite of nails. And then Riddle let go, arm dropping to his side. 

“But I won’t.” He flashed Harry a quick smile. “How about breakfast?”

“Uh...” Harry said, blinking at Riddle’s sudden mood change, trying and failing to bring back the anger he had felt just a moment ago.

“Well, I suppose it would be more accurate to call it lunch by now. You slept like the dead and I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

Taking a quick step to the side, Riddle headed out of the room, leaving Harry where he stood. 

What… Harry shook his head and turned around to stare at Riddle leaving. Harry knew he’d never be considered an intellectual, but he doubted even someone as smart as Hermione could figure out what was going on in that man’s head. 

“Are you coming?” Riddle called from the other room, and after a brief pause he stuck his head back in. “Or actually, go ahead and use the shower first. There’s clean clothes in the wardrobe.”

Uh, so that was going to be a no. Unappreciative of being treated like a child, Harry decided that the only course of action would be to actually act like one and headed out to the kitchen without even stopping to wash his hands. Riddle raised an eyebrow, but Harry ignored him in favour of looking for the food. And felt his jaw drop.

“What the hell is this?”

Riddle shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, and I didn’t want to wake you up. So I got a bit of everything.”

A little bit of everything was right. Laid out on the table was plates upon plates, every inch of the table covered with a variety of dishes. Pasta, pizza, stew… It looked like Riddle had gone and robbed a buffet.

“That’s… you know that’s not normal, right?” Harry asked, but took a seat when Riddle gestured for him to do so. A part of him wanted to refuse, but his stomach was growling and letting all of that food go to waste pained him. 

No one was surprised when the food turned out to be delicious. Harry couldn’t stop himself from digging his fork and trying a little bit of everything, relishing the succinct flavours and textured. Wherever Riddle had bought this from, they certainly knew what they were doing. 

On the other side of the table Riddle settled down with a single dish – somehow Harry expected nothing else – and picked at his food as he watched Harry eat. The brunette attempted to ignore him as he devoured the food, but the more his hunger was eased, the harder it was to ignore that stare.

Glaring at Riddle over a forkful of seafood pasta, Harry growled. “What?”

“I never realised just how satisfactory it is to see you like this… enjoying yourself. It makes me want to keep spoiling you.” 

Riddle’s voice was deeper than it had been a minute before, and Harry swallowed his mouthful before he finished chewing it, feeling the lump of it slowly descend down his throat. He was acutely aware of the grey eyes following the motion.

“...I can get my own food, thanks. This is way too much, anyway.”

Riddle shrugged. “Well, I guess I’ll have to find some other way to satisfy you...” He grinned. “You wouldn’t happen to have any suggestions?”

Harry was pretty sure Riddle didn’t need him to give a suggestion. Actually, he was pretty certain Riddle didn’t even want him to. However, since he asked.

Harry grinned. “Well then, how about letting me out of here? That would be really satisfying to me.”

Riddle’s eyebrow twitched, and Harry counted that as a victory. 

“You want to be let out?” He drawled, each word pronounced slowly as if he was weighing them. “I suppose I could, however, not without any guarantee that you won’t pull a stunt like that again.”

“Uh, I, uh, promise not to secretly travel to Yemen again?”

Riddle didn’t even need to say anything out loud for Harry to know what a horrid attempt he believed that to have been.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can say that could convince me. You do have a track record of throwing yourself into danger at the slightest provocation. In fact, I believe you have done so ever since the first time we met.”

“Hey!” Harry argued. “That’s on you! I wouldn’t have run inside of the ruins if you hadn’t so obviously intended to shoot us at your convenience. Or actually, now that I think about it, you did shoot at us!”

“Indeed. I suppose I can take the blame for that one. But it doesn’t explain your insistence to keep hunting me down, time after time, even while knowing I’m dangerous. Why is that, Harry?” Riddle’s eyes caught Harry’s. “Why do you keep running after me, despite knowing I’ve never been above putting a bullet in your head?”

Harry found himself trapped in his gaze, held fast by the emotions that seemed to chase each other behind Riddle’s eyes. 

“In a way,” Riddle continued, voice quieter, barely enough to break the silence, “you’re even more obsessed with me than I am with you. Does it make you feel alive when I hunt you down? When you try so very hard to get the drop on me? What wouldn’t you do to get me to notice you?”

Swallowing, Harry shook his head, a minimal motion that barely was there. He wanted to argue but in a sense Riddle was right. He loved the feeling of racing through a ruin, knowing that he was just one step ahead of the man. He loved knowing he had won, emerging unscathed (more or less) with whatever artefact Riddle had been after. As much as he was trying to convince himself otherwise, it wasn’t the thrill of uncovering artefacts that drove him. 

In the silence that followed Harry could see how every second increased his satisfaction. When he couldn’t take it any longer, Harry looked away. He stared down at the mountains of food remaining without any desire to have more. 

“I want to...” Harry found himself saying without being completely aware that he was going to do it, “I want to see Hermione.”

“… I believed I told you that when you’re in my presence, your focus should be on me.”

He was frowning, Harry could hear it in his voice. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at him.

“I… please.”

“She’s fine, and I can send her a message to assure her you’re safe and sound. With me.”

Harry let out a bark of a laugh and managed to lift his head enough to look at Riddle. “You think that’s going to reassure her?”

“At the very least,” Riddle raised an eyebrow, “it should stop her from thinking your corpse is lying and rotting somewhere in the desert.”

There was an audible clack as Harry shut his mouth, teeth slamming against each other. Fuck, was she thinking that?

“Let me see her, Riddle! Come on, it can be here, I won’t insist on being let out! Just… I gotta see her, alright?”

Riddle scoffed, but after only a moment’s hesitation nodded. “Fine. I’ll have Severus bring your precious _friend_ here. Not like they are making any progress anyway.” 

He got up from the table and left the room. Surprised at his victory, Harry followed after and frowned as he saw Riddle putting his coat on.

“Where are you going?” There was no way Riddle would reduce himself to a messenger.

“Some of us have business to attend to. Besides, I don’t want to be here for what is surely going to be a sickeningly sweet reunion.”

The goon outside of the door stepped aside to let him pass and Riddle slammed the door behind him, leaving Harry alone. Again. 

Harry found himself loitering for a couple of long minutes, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do, when his steps brought him past the kitchen and the army of food still standing on the table. Riddle had just left it, probably assuming that it would all just magically be gone by the time he came back. And it would be. Harry sighed as he began to pack up the food, unwilling to let it all go to waste. After all, Riddle did have a huge fridge, filled with nothing.

A while later it was filled with food and Harry felt a certain satisfaction in that. It defined a certain line between him and Riddle, reassuring him more firmly of who he was. Who the hell cared if he was an adrenaline junkie? At least he had the sense not to waste perfectly good food. 

Yet the satisfaction didn’t last long as Harry found himself idly pacing, steps taking him from the living-room to the bedroom and back, over and over again. There was no sign of Hermione and Harry wondered how long it could possibly take to bring her over. 

He shouldn’t have asked for her to be brought over. He should have insisted to go to her, should have fought with Riddle until he got his way. Who did he think he was anyway? Locking Harry up in his house was a freaking crime, a literal kidnapping! He should go to the police with this and let Riddle see how fun it was to be stuck in a confined space without being able to get out. 

Harry was aware of the whole fact that while he was in there, he had no way of actually going to the police. Or doing much of anything. But there was no way Riddle could keep this up, sooner or later he would have to let Harry out. 

… Right?

It was a great relief to Harry when the door opened and Hermione was not-so-gently pushed inside. 

“Hermione!” He exclaimed, and before she had even recovered enough to yell at the man who pushed her inside Harry had wrapped her in his arms, tugging her close. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

There was a moment before she realised who he was that had her stiffening in his grip, but it only lasted for a second before he was hugged back with just as much enthusiasm.

“Harry!” She shouted, voice threatening to burst an eardrum at this distance. She hugged him even harder before shoving him away. “You’re okay! You stupid arse, why would you do something so stupid!?” There was no time to reply before she pulled him back again, squeezing the air out of his lungs. 

He wasn’t sure how long they had been doing that, each relishing in the mere fact that the other was _there_ and safe, before they finally calmed enough to sit down. Hermione had, to no one’s surprise, a million questions and Harry found himself telling his story to her, stopping to expand and give more detailed information at every pause. And since he had started, he found himself compelled to tell her more and to tell her of Riddle, and what he had done.

“Psh,” Hermione shook her head. “Good work, Harry.” Harry blinked at her. “I said, good work. That bastard deserved it. You’re too nice, feeling even the slightest bit of sympathy for him. He’s done worse things to you, and will probably do it again, without batting an eyelash.” 

Harry supposed that was true. But it didn’t stop him from feeling uncomfortable with his own action.

Hermione looked at him, and her eyes went soft. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not like you actually hurt him, remember?”

“Yeah, you’re right. He was just as much of an obnoxious bastard today.”

“Exactly.” She smirked at him. “So, now that we’ve covered that...” she looked around, taking in the huge windows and the minimalistic furnishing. “Let’s work on getting you out of here.”

Harry felt himself copy her expression. He knew there was a reason she’d got him out of trouble countless of times. If anyone could figure out how Harry could escape, it would be Hermione.

Following the same pattern as Harry had, Hermione made sure to investigate every inch of the apartment for weak points or ways to get out. Unlike Harry, she did it very methodically and calmly. As they worked – starting with the rooms Harry hadn’t had the opportunity to check – she told him about their research. It had been a bust, pretty much. Slytherin had been so shrouded in myth that it was hard to even find books on the subject, much less any that contained any semblance of useful information. In all honesty, Harry’s desperate dash had been the most successful thing of all.

“I don’t like it, though,” Hermione said, hands against the wall and giving an experimental push. “This wizard… can we trust him? How do we know he’s not out to make this worse? I asked Snape this morning and the fear-spots keep growing, and he thinks that they might actually be speeding up.”

Harry shook his head. “So the potion did nothing, then?”

Hermione shook her head as well. “No, we don’t know that. Actually, since we don’t exactly know what it was meant to do it’s impossible to judge. But from what you told me, I don’t think anything will happen until Riddle visits a fear-spot. That’s what he said, right? For Riddle to ‘face his fears’.”

She frowned and pulled at a book on it’s shelf experimentally. “If only we knew what exactly to expect. I do believe he doesn’t have any reason to hate Riddle, but if this is the same person who wrote that text, he’s both ancient and insane. There’s no telling if he follows normal logic. He might just want to destroy the world.”

“Yeah...” Harry agreed, “But it didn’t quite feel like it. I mean… it’s just a feeling but it felt more like he was tired.”

“Tired of what?”

“I don’t know… Living, I guess? God knows I’d hate it, living for that long. Alone. Actually, completely alone in abandoned ruins. Not even a rat for company...” He shuddered and shook the thought out of his head. “Either way, I don’t think he was lying to us. But neither would he give us all information.”

“Exactly. And are we willing to risk it?”

Harry sighed. “What other option do we have?” Then he frowned. “Then again, even if we wanted to do it, how the hell would we get Riddle there? I don’t think he’d willingly put himself in that kind of danger. He’d need a real good incentive...”

Hermione’s head snapped around to stare at him. “No. Harry, no.”

“What?”

“I know what you’re thinking and you’re not doing it!”

“But if it’s the only way..”

“Harry James Potter!” she almost screeched. “You do not sell yourself for this! Especially not for a solution that isn’t certain to work. The zones aren’t that large yet, we still have time to figure something out. If push comes to shove, I’ll go to Yemen and talk to this crazy magician and make him give me a straight answer.”

“Oh come on! That’s even more absurd! Besides, it’s not like Riddle is planning on hurting me. I’ll be fine...”

“No!” She had completely stopped her search now and was instead focusing completely on Harry. “Who cares that he won’t hurt you?! That’s not the point. You don’t want to, and you’re worth more than this!”

“Am I?” Harry blinked in sudden realisation. “Am I worth more than the entirety of London, potentially of the world?”

“Hey!” Hermione grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, remember? You can’t sign yourself away for an uncertainty. Worst case scenario will be that this just makes it worse and then you’ve gone and signed yourself away for nothing!”

“But if it works...”

“It’s time to go.” 

Harry and Hermione both startled at the voice that intruded on their conversation. Harry looked away to find guard no. 1 staring down at them. The guard met Hermione’s eyes and twitched his head in a clear motion for her to move it. 

“No, come on, not yet!”

“Time’s up. The boss doesn’t want her here when he comes back.”

“That’s not fair. Tell him to shove it!”

Harry only received a blank stare in return and the guard reached over, grabbing Hermione’s shoulder and pushing her toward the door. She fought it, but it was futile and they were by the door and through it in no time at all. Harry threw the door open to follow them, but a different guard was already blocking the doorway. 

“Shit, get the hell out of my way! Come on, let me out!”

In the distance, the elevator pinged and the sound of Hermione arguing with the guard went silent. 

“Oh come on...” Harry muttered, staring at the guard who was looking down at him. The only response he received was a quick shake of the head and then he was, very gently, pushed inside. The guard closed the door. 

\- - - - - - - - - 

When Riddle returned, an hour or so later – seriously, an _hour! -_ Harry was sitting in the couch and sulking. 

“Here I was, thinking you’d be happy after seeing your friend.”

Harry glared at him over his shoulder. “I might have been, if someone hadn’t decided to drag her out right after she arrived.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “You had four hours. I hardly see how that’s insufficient time.”

“You don’t, do you? Yet for some reason, here I am, locked up in your apartment just so you can stare at me for hours at an end.”

Hanging up his coat, Riddle approached the back of the couch, leaning over it to grab Harry’s shoulders, pulling him back against the couch and towering above him.

“It would be my pleasure to do more than just stare at you, Harry. If that’s your complaint, why don’t I indulge you?” His hands slid slowly along Harry’s shoulders and up his neck, one deviating to slip down and beneath the edge of his shirt while the other gently grasped his chin and pulled Harry’s head back. “Is this better?”

The kiss left Harry no room to respond and barely any to breathe, his breath stuttering out as Riddle broke it. The warlord’s pupils were blown wide, eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room. 

“… No.” Harry managed to get out, and Riddle’s hands tensed against him. “I.. I’m not agreeing.”

Riddle raked his nails up Harry’s chest as he withdrew his hand. “No.” He said, as if tasting the word. “No, no, no, no. Does it please you, Harry, to keep saying it? Even when your own body clearly relishes my touch?” The hand slid down again, gentle now against the sensitive skin. Harry shuddered. Riddle leaned his forehead against Harry’s, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet. “What can I do to make it a yes?”

For a moment, Harry felt as if the universe had stopped. “What can you do..?” He muttered and didn’t think of Hermione’s arguments, didn’t want to consider them. Because in truth, a part of him did want Riddle. “You can..” his voice cracked, died down. 

“...What.” Riddle’s voice was coaxing, urging him to tell.

“You can complete it.”

Riddle stiffened against him, and then he shook. A low chuckle spread through the air. 

“I never knew you were so sly, Harry. First last night, and then again now.” He pulled back and with quick hands twisted Harry’s position in the couch, turning him so they were face to face. “Are you really willing to give up your principles for this?”

Harry swallowed, but nodded.

Riddle stared at him with an unreadable expression and then he let go, turning away from Harry and throwing a fist into the wall. It was certain to hurt, but he hardly seemed to feel it.

“So sly.” He said instead, shaking his hand. “Almost sly enough.” He took a deep breath, and then looked back at Harry. “No.”

The door slammed behind him as he left, his coat hanging forgotten on its hook.

\- - - - - - -

In some ways, Harry wished he had rushed after Riddle, tried to calm him down and to keep him there. Not because he felt bad – some part of him felt like maybe he should be but, if he was honest with himself he didn’t – but because it got unbearably boring. Mentally slapping oneself was only fun for so long. 

Riddle had plenty of books, but Harry had never been much of a reader and he couldn’t settle enough to enjoy them. The fact that it was mostly non-fiction, with subjects like ethics or advanced physics didn’t help much either. And honestly, ethics? What the hell was Riddle doing with books on ethics, except for perhaps reading them for a laugh. Other than that, the apartment was devoid of entertainment. He could eat – which he did, enjoying the delicacies left over from lunch – and he could think.

Harry hated thinking. It felt like he had done too much of it lately, mind going round and round non-stop. He was pretty sure it wasn’t even productive thinking but rather a jumbled mess that didn’t help anyone. His last attempts at thinking had got him locked up and then abandoned, so doing more of that just didn’t seem bright. 

Bathing took up a section of time and let Harry realise just how much he needed it. Riddle’s men had basically whisked him straight from Yemen to London, without the opportunity to wash up more than in a sink. And when Riddle had offered him the chance to do so, Harry hadn’t taken it. Soaping up and looking at how the water ran in dirty rivulets off his chest made him wonder how even Riddle had been able to overlook it. 

As a matter of fact, no wonder Riddle had rejected him. He must have felt the grime stuck beneath his nails and decided that while the offer was tempting, Harry was just too disgusting for it to appeal to him. Had that been luck, or not?

Harry was rather pleased that Riddle hadn’t accepted his offer, even if this left him with no idea of how to proceed, but the idea of giving himself up, _selling himself basically,_ was becoming less and less comfortable by the second. Even if he did want Riddle, he didn’t want it like that.

So what were they to do? Harry was hoping Hermione might be able to come up with a solution, but if he was being realistic it didn’t seem likely. An empire had been destroyed, all thanks to this curse, and Harry hoped his friend would come up with a miraculous fix in just a few weeks. She couldn’t even do magic, and that did seem like a sort of prerequisite to making it work.

That left them with the route Harry had already started. Get Riddle to go to the fear-spot and let whatever the potion was supposed to do run its course. Whether it be killing him or who knew what else. What Harry liked with it was that it was simple, a one step solution. What he didn’t like was the hurdles. How does one force a man who has an army at his beck and call to do something he didn’t want to?

The answer: you didn’t. Especially when you were piss-poor and without a full-time job, since you had dedicated your life to uselessly attempting to spoil whatever plans Riddle had. And of course, you were locked up. Even if he could ask Hermione to knock Riddle out and drag him to a fear-spot, he doubted she’d be able to do so on her own. But maybe… maybe she could go to Dumbledore. He’d helped them before and would doubtlessly do so now. 

Stepping out of the shower, Harry shivered as he left the pleasant heat. He looked at the pile of clothes on the floor, eyeing them with disdain. Originally he had planned on wearing them again – conceding to wearing Riddle’s clothes hadn’t been on his agenda – but feeling fresh from the shower and rubbing down with a soft and clean towel, Harry didn’t think he could do it. And depending on how long he was stuck there, it would just get worse and worse… 

With a sigh, he stepped out of the bathroom and headed over for the large wooden wardrobe and flung the doors open. It contained more dress shirts than Harry had seen in one place before, each feeling similarly soft and expensive to the touch. The design of them practically reeked Riddle. He wasn’t going to wear that. Besides, it would look ridiculous. Riddle was tall and his shirts reflected that. 

Thankfully there was drawers as well, filled with plain vests to wear underneath. And even if they were long enough to cover half of his arse, at least there wouldn’t be sleeves draping over his hands. Harry grabbed one and hesitated just for a moment before grabbing a pair of pants as well. It would just be for the night, because he was going back in that bathroom right this second and washing his own clothes. They’d be dry by morning. 

Hopping on one leg, Harry pulled the clothes on even as he rushed back to the bathroom, grabbing his clothes and dropping them in the tub. The first batch of water drained grey, but each batch was less so. Once he was satisfied that they were clean enough he hung them on the edge of the tub and of the sink, before letting himself fall into bed. Surprisingly, he felt tired. 

\- - - - - - - - 

For the fifth time, Harry woke up to sunlight in his face. He’d forgotten to close the curtains, again. Blinking in annoyance he did nothing but turn around, burrowing further into bed. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he’d already slept too much and his mind was fully alert. 

Five days, Harry thought, or maybe it was four. Since he’d had any kind of human contact except for the exciting visit of a maid who re-made the bed and brought him new linens as well as food. She didn’t speak to him and she had tried her damnedest not to get eye-contact, even when Harry had physically grabbed her. All he’d seen in her eyes was fear, which had been enough to make him let go.

He was going insane. He was pretty sure that was a thing. Stir-crazy and deprived of human contact. That wasn’t a very nice thing to do, he’d read in one of Riddle’s books. Could drive a person mad, if it went on for long enough. Harry wondered if mere days would be enough to do it. 

Everything he could think of doing to get attention had already been tried. He’d knocked on the door – obvious – and shouted and thrown things and demanded to see Riddle and smashed one of the windows in the living-room, but there had been no reaction from outside. Oh and the front door was locked, by something he couldn’t undo from the inside. Riddle had turned his apartment into an actual prison, just for wee little Harry.

Punching the wall, Harry yelled. “This isn’t doing you any favours, you know that?!”

To no one’s surprise, he was met with silence. Fuck, this was killing him. If only Riddle would at least deign to come visit him then Harry could plead his case himself, but the man was stubbornly keeping away. Why? Hell if Harry knew. For someone who apparently couldn’t stand it when Harry was far away, Riddle sure seemed to have changed his tune. 

“At this rate, you might as well let me do my own thing.” He told the wall, “Not like you’re to take advantage of my presence, anyway.”

Harry stared out into the air for a moment or two, before shaking his head. What was he doing, talking to thin air? He rolled out of bed, still wearing his own clothes and feeling rather proud of that fact. They might be stale and worn, but at least he could escape the fate of having to wear something of Riddle’s. He didn’t need more reminders of the man. 

All was silent as he stepped into the hall and Harry knew all would be silent in the living-room as well, but at least there he had the comfort of the occasional wind breezing through the hole he had made. Harry was rather surprised no one had come to fix that. He wondered if it would change if he destroyed more.

When the door clicked open, Harry thought he imagined it. But that was dispersed as the sound of Hermione, loudly arguing, followed a second after. Harry was up from the couch in a flash and next to the door so quickly he almost knocked her over and into the person behind her. 

“Hermione!” He exclaimed, “you’re here, you’re here, you’re here! You’re allowed to talk to me, right? Say you’re allowed to?!”

Her huge eyes took in the sight of him as her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, as if she didn’t know what to say. That was impossible, this was Hermione.

“Harry!” She said finally, and her hands squeezed his shoulders. “I’m sorry, he wouldn’t let me see you, I’ve tried for days to get them to let me in but...” She broke off. “Are you okay?”

He was laughing. It was a sudden realisation as the relief of seeing his friend, of seeing anyone who acknowledged his existence. 

“Shit, you’re not okay. Come here,” she started leading him to the couch, stopping only for a second as she took in the broken window, “What the hell did he do to you?”

Harry shrugged and sat when she urged him to. It felt good to have her tell him what to do. “I guess he didn’t do so much as it was not doing anything at all. Or potentially taking offence for me taking advantage of his desire. Riddle seems to be surprisingly sensitive, you know?”

“Harry, what… how long have you been here alone?”

“Since the day when I last saw you? He stormed off in a real huff, let me tell you.”

“Five days?!” She exclaimed and her face took on a real fierce look. “He left you alone here for five days?” 

Harry shrugged. Hermione shook her head.

“I’m… We’re gonna have to speed up our plans. I can’t let this go on.” She turned to him, eyes catching his and lowering her voice. “Listen, Harry. We’re working on making sure all of this ends, you know? I’ve talked to Dumbledore and he’ll help us out. But there’s too many guards here for us to get in without creating a blood bath, and this isn’t something we’ve been wanting to risk. So instead we’ve tried to get a hold of Riddle, but the man is slippery and the team can’t seem to find a good time to nab him. Dumbledore doesn’t want a scene but honestly...” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Honestly, at this point I don’t think we can wait. I can’t just sit around while Riddle treats you this way.”

“It’s not that bad...” Harry tried, not sure why he even bothers. Hermione is determined and Harry can’t muster enough conviction to fool anyone. From the look on her face, he figures he’s looking pretty bad.

“Harry,” Hermione said seriously, “I’m going to get you our of here and away from this creep, and the faster it happens, the better.”

“It’s not so bad,” Harry said again, but quickly follows it up with, “but not now. Don’t leave me alone again. You want some tea?”

Hermione did, and she stayed until the guard came to drag her away. He needed to get a back up, just to make sure one of them held Harry back.

\- - - - - - - - 

Riddle returned the same evening, making Harry feel a sense of deja vu. He didn’t look good, clothes dishevelled and with dark spots covering parts of his black suit. He didn’t waste a second as he entered the apartment, grey eyes spotting Harry and long legs bringing him within reach swiftly. 

He was out of breath, Harry noted, and the hand that grabbed Harry’s neck was cold. 

“Alright.” He said, fingers weaving their way into Harry’s hair, twisting them to submission. “I’ll do it. So long as you keep your part of the deal.”

“Do- do what?”

“Hmph,” Riddle snorted, “Don’t play coy, Harry. The thing your little friend is starting a war over. Making me go into the cursed area to face the consequences.”

Harry swallowed at the look in his face and then shook his head. “It’s… I take it back.”

Riddle’s fingers tightened. “What makes you think I’ll allow that?” He paused. “I know that you think that now _Dumbledore_ is going to be able to help you. You think he can fight me. But you are wrong.” Riddle stepped a step closer. “Dumbledore is weak and he doesn’t have the manpower to defeat me in an all-out war. The only chance he had was to take me by surprise, and he just missed the opportunity. He knows this just as well as I do.” 

That couldn’t be true, or Riddle wouldn’t be here, telling him that the desperate offer would be accepted. He wouldn’t do that unless he was backed into a corner.

Bracing himself, Harry said: “I don’t think so. I’ll bet you’re just scared of getting into war with Dumbledore.”

The look Riddle gave him was incredulous, and his laugher mocking. “Oh, Harry, don’t get me wrong. There’s going to be a war no matter what, and I’m _not_ going to lose.”

“So why the hell would you even agree to the offer then? I know you don’t want to risk going there.”

“Hmph, while I’m certainly not fond of risks, I’ve calculated my chances and I see this working out just fine… and if it doesn’t, well then, all the better for you, right? So if you want to stop the curse, you can make the deal with me now, or you can do it later.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I’m...”

“Did you wonder,” Riddle closed in, hissing in his ear, “why Dumbledore would do something so foolish? Why that plotting old man wouldn’t wait until he was certain that they would be successful?” A pause. “I hear a little birdie whispered in his ear of all the atrocities you had to endure at my hands, making him speed up his plans. And now, that little birdie might be in trouble, don’t you think? I’m not sure Dumbledore’s men would protect her as well as they can, should this information come out. No one likes a war, Harry, and least of all the soldiers.”

“...You...you’re...”

“But you know what,” Riddle’s breath was hot against Harry’s ear, lips soft as they grazed the shell, “Because I can be nice, I’ll throw in an addendum to our deal. I’ll make sure your friend is, and remains, safe and sound and go face my fears. All for the price of one, small yes.” Riddle drew back, giving Harry a wide grin. “What do you say?”

Somewhere along the line, Harry’s breathing had caught and he hadn’t quite been able to get it back to normal. He wanted to say that Riddle was lying, the man was a first-class liar, but he couldn’t deny the truth in what he said. If… this had happened right after Hermione came to visit him, and she’d been so upset. He didn’t know how she had convinced Dumbledore that hurrying was the right choice, but he knew that if anyone was able to do so, it would be her. And the war… Harry didn’t doubt for a second when Riddle told him there would be a war. 

It had been his fault. He’d caused it.

“If...” Harry had to pause to wet his lips, taking a step back and feelign al too aware of Riddle’s eyes on him, “If I say yes… Can you stop the war?”

“Oh Harry,” Riddle looked amused, but there was something unsettling in his eyes. “I think you’re overestimating the value of your proposition. After all, I don’t need the yes. I just want it.”

For a second, Harry feels the mark taking hold of him and freezing him to the spot, as immobile as a statue. And then it’s gone, and Harry can focus on Riddle’s smiling face again.

He won’t be able to stop it, it tells him. Riddle has longed for a reason to take out Dumbledore, and now he has it. Harry’s not taking that away from him. So he won’t be able to save them all, but he can do his damnedest to make sure his best friend isn’t hurt. 

Harry feels his shoulders slump. “Fine. But,” he emphasises clearly, “I won’t take your word for it.”

For a second, Riddle looks confused. But then he tilts his head as he says: “You want to go with me?”

“Yes.” Harry nods. “Or I’ll never accept it.”

“You want to go with me, knowing that Dumbledore’s men could attack at any moment.” Harry shrugs and Riddle turns his head in a small shake. “Fine then, it’s a deal.”

Harry reached out to shake hands, and found himself letting out a yelp as Riddle used it to pull him close, sealing their lips together. It took a bare second for Harry to push his way back, glaring at Riddle as he did so. 

“Hmm...” Riddle was smirking, suddenly in a good mood. “Don’t be so shy, Harry… That was just a taste. After tonight I doubt a kiss will be enough to embarrass you.” 

God. Harry paled, backing away from Riddle completely. In response the man just let out an amused huff.

“Come on then, get dressed.”

“What?! We’re going now?”

Riddle let out a long sigh. “Of course we’re going now.”

“But… weren’t you just attacked?”

“Yes.” Riddle nodded. “And that makes this the perfect time to go. Dumbledore won’t be ready, or willing, to strike again so soon.” When Harry didn’t move he let out another sigh. “Get your boots, Harry.”

A few minutes later, Harry found himself in the awkward silence of the elevator. He was surrounded by Riddle’s guards, and the man himself was standing next to him, an arm wrapped around his waist. Whenever Harry tried to pull out of his hold – because he hadn’t signed up for that, and the deal hadn’t even been completed yet – the grip would just get tighter. Riddle didn’t say anything, but he seemed almost amused by it. 

Luckily, Riddle let go once they were out on the street. But only to grab his arm instead, holding it with a vice like grip. 

“If you so much as think about running away, I will find your little friend and I’ll take care of her personally.” When Harry paled, he continued in a lighter tone. “But I know that won’t be an issue. You’re a man of your word, right, Harry?”

He could only nod, and follow as Riddle led them up the street. 

The guards spread out as they walked along, leaving four to watch their back while the remaining five disappeared into the shadows. Harry imagined they were watching them from afar, looking for any threats and he really hoped that Dumbledore hadn’t planned anything else that night. 

Riddle’s hand was digging into the meat of his arm, despite the earlier threat and Harry’s assurances. It was something of a relief to arrive by the edge of the fear-spot, to feel the slight shiver that crawled up his spine as they went further inside. 

As they went along the guards became increasingly uneasy, reaching into their jackets as if ready to pull their guns. The grip on Harry’s arm tightened as well, but other than that, Riddle showed no sign of fear. Not yet.

By the time the first guard actually pulled his gun, Riddle frowned and brought them to a complete halt.

“Stay here.” He ordered. “And holster your gun. You will not draw it again unless there is a _real_ threat, understood?”

The guard was breathing heavily, and Harry sort of pitied him. His skin was crawling and he was certain there was something watching from the shadows. He wished he had a gun of his own to draw. 

Once Riddle had all guards agreement he clenched his teeth and pulled Harry forward again, going deeper into the gloom. Harry spared a moment of desperately looking around to glance up at Riddle.The man looked pale, his cheeks tense from biting his teeth. In the dim light it made him look terrifying, hunter and hunted all at once.

Even though he had been in more fear-spots than he ever wanted to, the fear never stopped getting to him. And as they went deeper Harry felt that familiar panic rising again, and if it hadn’t been for Riddle’s grip on his arm – now potentially cutting off the blood-flow entirely – he would have already bolted. His heart was racing at a million miles per hour and he couldn’t even see Riddle’s guards any longer. He wasn’t sure if that was because they had bolted, or because they had just gone so far.

The silence was oppressing, it was terrifying. The dark windows in the houses seemed to stare down at him.

Harry opened his mouth, started to say something, _anything_ to break the silence, but as he did he could hear the roar. It was close and when the beast pummelled out at them from around a corner there was nothing that could stop Harry from running, adrenaline and instinct pushing him to get away. He tore himself from Riddle, only barely aware that by doing so he unbalanced the other.

And then there were footsteps behind him. Were they gaining? They were gaining, weren’t they? If Harry dared to look back, if he dared to pause for even a second the beast would be upon him and it would be over. He could almost feel his flesh being torn by claws and teeth. His breath was coming in panicked gasps and he couldn’t run much longer, couldn’t hold on.

The houses beside him suddenly gave way to an alley and Harry hurled himself inside, turning so fast that his feet slipped on the pavement and he went down. For a moment he was frozen, certain that this was it. But when the second passed and nothing happened, he scrabbled to his knees, daring to sneak a look behind.

There was nothing there. Heart pounding hard enough to break his ribcage, Harry forced himself to his feet and to the edge of the alley. He saw Riddle first, running fast away from the lumbering beast. It was nearly upon him, the shadowy folds of its body seeming to extend, growing long and then lashing out. The tendril of darkness caught his ankle, and in second, Riddle was down. Another second and the beast was upon Riddle, the darkness swirling to cover him completely. 

Harry caught a flash of red eyes before it began to shift, undulating faster and faster, condensing yet at the same time disappearing. Moments later there was nothing there but Riddle lying on the ground.

And just like that the air felt lighter, the world just a bit brighter. Slowly, the intense panic was fading away, leaving nothing but a normal fear that Harry could get a handle on. Was that it? Had they done it?

“Riddle..?” Harry said, slowly approaching the man. He wasn’t moving, and from the distance and in the darkness Harry couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. Harry felt a twinge in his heart. This had been, it had been stupid, right? What if he had killed the man? Bastard though he may be, Harry never wanted to be a murderer.

Harry got on his knees next to Riddle, worriedly grabbing his shoulder and neck. He relaxed just a smidgen as he felt a pulse beneath his fingertips, leaning back on his heels and letting his head fall back. And then pulling his hand away. Or he would have, if Riddle hadn't chosen that moment to grab his hand with his own.

"Oh no, don't stop." Silky and threaded with dark promise, it made Harry roll his eyes. The man had almost died and the next second it was back to this.

"Come on, Riddle." Harry said and looked back at him, gently trying to take his hand away. Riddle was smirking at him and it was hard to look away from the bow of those lips. Except... His eyes were red. Why were his eyes red?

It wasn't just any red either, Harry would recognize the colour of the beast at any time. It had burnt itself into his mind. In a split second he stopped trying to be gentle and threw himself away from Riddle, noticing the way the hand tightened, but too late to stop him from getting away.

"And we were just getting to the good part," Riddle sighed as he watched Harry retreat. He tilted his head. "Do stop."

Harry stopped, felt ice creeping across every limb as he couldn't move. In front of him Riddle got up from the ground at a leisurely pace, wiping himself off and cracking his neck. And then he turned and looked at Harry and the brunette felt frozen for a completely different reason. He wasn't sure if there was any comprehension left in those eyes, instead they only reflected a deep hunger.

He wanted to run when Riddle approached, wanted to sprint with all his might. The curse held him still and the warlord made a slow lap around him, eyes caressing every part of his body.

"Oh yes, this is what I needed..." Riddle stopped behind him, running a hand along Harry's midriff and stomach, dipping it low enough to slip beneath Harry's T-shirt.

"Riddle!" Harry squeaked in panic, "stop, you gotta fight it!" Thank god that Riddle seemed to have the strange enjoyment of hearing him talk. If only he could get him to realise what had happened he could focus on the important part.

The hand stopped but Riddle leaned closer and closer until his mouth was right next to Harry's left ear. "Fight what, Harry?"

Harry's eyes widened and he shivered. "The beast!" He hissed and at Riddles amused breath of 'the beast?' he continued. "Its inside of you! You got the same red eyes now, you gotta fight it!"

That did actually get Riddle to pause for a moment, but only until he started laughing instead. "I see now..! I've been worried for nothing."

The hand started to move up Harry's chest again and Riddle pressed close to him, close enough for the brunette to feel every part of his body.

"Don't worry, my pet," Riddle whispered in his ear, "I'm still all me. In fact, I’m probably more of myself than ever."

His fingers found a nipple and pinched it, making Harry gasp and arch his back. "That's it, Harry, let's focus on more pleasurable things now, shall we?" Riddle pulled his head back, engulfing him in a domineering kiss. His neck was tingling and the feel of the warlord’s hands on his body felt stupidly nice. This wasn’t..! He had promised his yes, but not like this! Not with Riddle being possessed or whatever had happened.

Yet all complains were smothered by Riddle’s insistent lips, silenced until Harry had no breath left with which to speak. He felt dizzy, terrified and disturbingly aroused all at once. He hardly noticed as Riddle’s hand slipped out of his shirt and the man’s mouth attached itself to his neck. The way Riddle kissed and nipped his way up Harry’s neck felt divine, and he shuddered as Riddle reached his ear, blowing softly into it.

“Much as I’d love to take you right here and now, I think we’d be better off somewhere more comfortable, wouldn’t you agree?”

Harry could only blink and Riddle placed his hand on the small of his back, pushing forward and starting to walk. Harry blinked again, his senses coming back to him. What was he doing, letting Riddle push him around like that? Especially when he was possessed.

But they were walking now, and that should mean… Harry tried to take off at a sprint, but found that his legs would only move in that same pace. Riddle’s hand was warm on his back and the man chuckled, as if he knew what had just happened.

Harry opened his mouth to… well, he wasn’t sure what. Yell, perhaps, call out for someone to help him. But even as he tried he realised that he didn’t even have that possibility now, his body moving like a machine according to Riddle’s will.

“I can’t take the risk,” Riddle spoke in deep baritone next to him, “I’ve been waiting for far too long already. But don’t you worry, once you’re in my bed I’ll let you scream all you like.”

Harry couldn’t stop the shiver that slithered its way along his spine, or the way he tried, again and again, to scream. But no sound would come and instead he just marched next to Riddle, obedient.

Reaching his flat took no time at all, felt like a fraction of the time it had taken them to get there. Surprisingly, none of the guards were in sight and Harry had half a moment wondering what had happened to them. The doorman, of course, did nothing to stop them, only calling out a “have a pleasant evening, sir” as they passed by. Harry fought with all his might, but it wasn’t until Riddle had nudged them into his bedroom that Harry regained mobility. He immediately threw himself at the closed door but then Riddle was on him, grabbing his shirt in a grip that had Harry gasping for air.

Harry found himself flung backwards, back landing on the soft mattress. He coughed, flipping to his side to better get up and get away but the warlord straddled him, pushing him down on his back and forcing him to be still.

“Let me go Riddle!” Harry swore, buckling his hips in an attempt to throw the man off. “Damn it, you’re possessed! You need to fight it!”

Riddle only laughed, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders and pushing him down further. He leaned down and mashed their lips together, prying and prodding to get Harry to open his mouth. The brunette refused, which only earned him a grin.

“I love the way you fight me, _Harry,_ ” he hissed and in that moment Harry could have sworn that Riddle’s eyes glowed. “Especially since we both know there’s no escape for you. Or did you forget already..?” His eyes took in Harry’s expression. “I upheld my end of the deal, and I do believe it’s time for you to do the same.”

He left Harry’s mouth to bite his way down Harry’s throat again and Harry hated himself for responding, for letting out that low groan as Riddle caressed that spot behind his ear which made him want to melt. He hated that even though his hands were free he wasn’t strong enough to push Riddle away, wasn’t strong enough to do anything but struggle feebly as the man did whatever he pleased. 

And he had promised. Still… “Come on, Riddle..! This isn’t the time! We need to help you first!”

In response, Riddle chuckled. “I told you already, I’m perfectly fine.”

“That’s not possible!” Harry argued. “I never agreed to say yes to this person!”

That got Riddle’s attention, and for the first time that night he stilled. “Harry… I do hope you’re not trying to go back on your word. That would be most… unfortunate.” His red eyes stared intently at Harry.

“I’m… I’m not going back on my word.” Harry promised him, trying to look as sincere as he could. “But I won’t say it now. Because this isn’t you.”

Riddle cocked his head. “That’s disappointing. I don’t think I could possibly hold back any longer.” A pause. “In fact, I don’t think I _want_ to hold back. Why should I stop myself from enjoying what is mine?”

“Riddle… please don’t do this...”

“Oh my sweet,” Riddle crooned, “those tears are not having the effect you were hoping for.” He leaned forward, tongue licking at the tear and tracing back along its path. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, rollercoaster of a chapter. I've been building up to this for what felt like forever, I honestly originally thought I would get to this point a good 3-4 chapters ago. Can't believe we've finally got this far. Say goodbye to the happy-go-lucky times we've enjoyed so far :/


End file.
